


The Past is the Past (Until it's not)

by jane_x80



Series: The Past is the Past [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Pre-Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-03 00:23:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 62,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5269547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jane_x80/pseuds/jane_x80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's childhood trauma catches up with him, and he'll need his friends' help (especially Gibbs) to get past this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is complete. I'll try to keep posting in the next few days. I'm not pleased with the title but I always have trouble with titles...  
> Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

Anthony DiNozzo feels eyes on him in the bullpen. It is past midnight and he had thought he was the only one left on the squadroom floor. He lifts his eyes from the papers that he has scattered on his desk to see his boss, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and NCIS Director Leon Vance watching him from the walkway above. Gibbs has that amused half-smirk on his face, and Vance looks about the usual – like he’s perpetually constipated.

Tony frowns at them. He had thought that they had both left earlier. He wonders what might be up.

Gibbs quirks an eyebrow and shakes his head almost imperceptibly. _Don’t worry and go about your business_ , was the silent message conveyed.

Tony shrugs and bites his bottom lip in response, _I don’t like it but I gotcha, Boss_. And consciously turns his head back to the papers on his desk, looking away from his boss and his boss’s boss. And in that moment, something jumps out from the information that he is studying and as his agile mind begins fitting pieces together, he forgets that he is being watched and begins rummaging around re-ordering the papers and typing furiously on his computer. Vance and Gibbs can see that he is practically vibrating as he works.

Vance nudges Gibbs and they move into his office where Gibbs holds out his palm. Vance pulls out his wallet and lays a fifty dollar bill in Gibbs’ outstretched hand.

“How’d you know that he would not only be here tonight but that he would break the case?” he grumbles.

“It’s DiNozzo,” Gibbs says mildly.

“How do you even know he solved your case?”

“Didn’t you see that? He pulled the answer out of thin air like he does,” Gibbs says with pride. “And tomorrow, he won’t just tell us what he found, he will help McGee and Bishop get to the same conclusion that he did without revealing to them that he’s already solved the case.”

“Why would DiNozzo do that? He likes attention and solving cases gets him attention.”

“DiNozzo is teaching his probies, and this is one of his methods.”

Vance sighs. “If only he were slightly less annoying, I could do with a few more like him.”

Gibbs laughs. “DiNozzo is who he is,” he says simply. “The world would probably explode if there were more than one of him.”

“The office certainly would,” Vance agrees. “Why won’t he take a promotion? We could have two elite MCRT teams in DC if he did.”

Gibbs sighs sadly. “DiNozzo is who he is,” he repeats, “he is fiercely loyal. Surely you must have noticed this about him?”

“I certainly have,” Vance nods. “Why haven’t you made him leave for his own good? Surely you care for him enough to let him go and let him fulfill his potential.”

“I’ve tried,” Gibbs says quietly. “I don’t rightly know what I did to earn his loyalty but…” he shrugs and pauses, “he knows he’s free to go whenever with my blessing. But he still chooses to stay.”

“I’ve heard people call him your loyal Saint Bernard,” Vance admits.

Gibbs smiles, “He actually likes that one.”

“He would, wouldn’t he?” Vance sighs.

“I think he just likes the barrel of whiskey tied around the throat thing though.”

Vance laughs. “On the other hand, you have to admit that it looks really good for NCIS that not only is the Senior Supervisory Agent of the MCRT feared by all, but his Senior Field Agent can pretty much kick the asses of all of the other Senior Supervisory Agents. Maybe even all of them combined.”

Gibbs’ smile widens. “You’ve come a long way on your opinion of DiNozzo,” he remarks.

Vance rolls his eyes. “His masks are very effective, and difficult to see through,” he grumbles.

“That’s the thing with him, you have to take the time to see what’s underneath all the crap he projects.” Gibbs thinks of the beautiful man sitting at his desk, working in the middle of the night. Because that was what DiNozzo was, beautiful, inside and out. While he guarded the inner beauty jealously, allowing only precious rare glimpses of it, his outer beauty has always been blinding and is half the reason that people are fooled by his overgrown frat boy mask. He hides behind his model good looks and allows people to judge him by it. He works hard to hide the keen intellect, complex insecurities and highly sensitive soul and shows to the world the mask of the lovable class clown. Gibbs knows that even now, after fifteen years, he has probably only scratched the surface of his SFA and he would probably be the person who knows him best.

“I know that now, thank you very much. Didn’t I say I wanted a few more like him, just toned down?”

Gibbs pats Vance’s shoulder. “That you did. You keep on offering him those promotions though. I won’t stop him from taking them, and he could surprise us, but you gotta remember that you can’t make DiNozzo do what he doesn’t want to do. It never ends well. I have years of experience with that. And so do you.”

Vance recalls sending him away to be an Agent Afloat and what a personal fiasco that turned out to be. Even though DiNozzo had been an exemplary Agent Afloat, it had taken years to smooth away the damage that that had done to their relationship, and even now all these years later, Vance cannot be certain that DiNozzo has forgiven him for taking him away from his family. Or taking him away from Gibbs.

“Anyway, I’m gonna go make him go home now,” Gibbs says. “He’ll need his beauty sleep.”

“Does he ever sleep?” Vance asks Gibbs seriously. “I’ve reviewed security footage of the bullpen and he seems to come back here after midnight several nights a week, and still turn up somewhat on time in the morning.”

Gibbs shrugs. He will not be the one to tell Vance that Tony has trouble sleeping through the night, or that he has been plagued with night terrors all his life, or that he cannot turn his brain off effectively enough to sleep longer than catnaps. These are things Gibbs knows because of the many nights that Tony has slept under his roof. He has experienced the nocturnal screams of terror, and the nightmare-infused fights. Tony has never told him what his nightmares are about, but he knows they must really be horrific given all the terrible things that Tony has experienced and witnessed during his long career in law enforcement, not to mention his traumatic neglect-filled childhood. He is certain that the bete-noires that Tony has publicly acknowledged is nothing compared to his actual nightmares.

He takes his leave of Vance and walks down the stairs, watching as Tony reshuffles the papers on his desk, frowning in concentration, one hand in his hair tugging gently. Tony may have solved the case, but he hasn’t figured out everything yet and it is irritating him.

“DiNozzo,” Gibbs barks, “go home.”

“I almost got it, Boss,” Tony replies absently, not looking at him.

“DiNozzo,” Gibbs says again in a tone that brooks no arguments. Tony’s head whips up obediently. “Yes, Boss?”

“Pack it up. Time to go,” Gibbs waits while Tony stacks the papers and shovels them into a file folder, powers down his computer and turns off his desk lamp. “With me, DiNozzo,” he barks.

Tony grabs his weapon and creds from the drawer, hoists his backpack and trots after Gibbs. In the elevator, Gibbs scrutinizes his second in command while Tony fidgets and drums his fingers. Tony’s mind is still on the case. Gibbs realizes that his old friend looks tired, dark circles under his sparkling green eyes, a slight pallor to his skin, and perhaps even some looseness to his clothing. Had he been eating properly? Gibbs couldn’t be certain. He steers Tony to his Challenger. If Tony comes home with him, he can order him to get some sleep and Tony always obeys orders.

“Um, Boss,” Tony says hesitantly, “This isn’t my car, Boss. My car’s actually right over there,” he turns to point to it.

“I know where your car is,” Gibbs tells him. “Get in. You’re sleeping over tonight.”

“Um, Boss,” Tony sounds doubtful. “There’s nothing wrong with my apartment that I can’t just go home and sleep there.”

“I know. But you’re so keyed up I don’t think you’ll sleep when you get to your home and I need you refreshed for tomorrow’s takedown.”

“What makes you think we’re taking anybody down tomorrow, Boss? We’ve been stuck on this case for two days now.”

Gibbs gives him a smile. “You just solved it, didn’t you?”

Tony flushes with pleasure at the acknowledgement. “Maybe. But I don’t have all the pieces completely filled in yet. Just the main bits. And you know, Boss, the devil is in the details.”

“Let McGee and Bishop earn their keep,” Gibbs tells him. “You already did the hard work. Get in the car, stay over, and get some sleep.”

Tony looks at his longtime boss, partner and friend, and sighs. He can see that he will not win this argument. “Okay,” he says, and he gets in the car. “What were you doing at work so late tonight with Vance?” he asks curiously, as Gibbs begins driving. “Something up?”

Gibbs smiles and shakes his head. “Nah. We just had something to settle.”

“Is it settled?” Tony looks worried. Whenever Vance got involved with something, inevitably it would get complicated. Tony was tired of complicated.

“It’s settled,” Gibbs assures him, thinking wickedly of the fifty dollars he’d won off of Vance, betting on Tony. He would always bet on Tony. He reaches out a hand and pats the soft hair on the back of Tony’s head, soothing him. Tony sighs and leans into the touch, his eyes falling shut. He was exhausted. They had been working non-stop for almost three days.

He is surprised when the car door opens and Gibbs is holding his hand out to help him out. He’d fallen asleep in the car, despite Gibbs’ mythically rough driving. Everything is a blur as Gibbs ushers him directly upstairs, allowing him time in the head before he finds himself tucked in securely into the guest bed, sliding back into sleep. He vaguely recalls Gibbs helping him out of his clothes, something that they usually do for each other only when injured or drunk. Weird, he’s not injured or drunk, but he doesn’t feel worried about it tonight. It was kind of nice to have someone take care of him, he thinks as he falls asleep.

He jolts to a sitting position, awakened by screaming. He immediately stops when he realizes that he has been awakened by his own screams. His heart is beating so hard and fast it feels like it’s going to explode in his chest, his breathing comes in fast, ragged pants and his mouth is dry. Dregs of the nightmare pulse through his mind. He looks around in confusion – he’s not in his own bed – but quickly realizes where he is.

He has kicked off the bedclothes and is drenched in sweat. He takes deep breaths and tries to slow his heartrate, going through his usual post-nightmare routine to calm himself. His fingers are trembling as he scrubs his face with his hands, trying to keep himself from whimpering or groaning. Although he’s pretty sure he has woken Gibbs up with the screaming, he would rather not have him witness the pathetic mess that he is in the aftermath of the nightmare. His stomach is roiling and he ends up staggering out of bed, across the hallway to the guest bathroom to throw up. When he is done, he brushes his teeth, rinses his face and actually feels a little better. He pads back to the guest room, falls into bed and scoots to the other side where the sheets are dry, and pulls up the covers. He turns onto his stomach, buries his head under a pillow, and although he doesn’t think he will go back to sleep, he actually does.

He doesn’t know that Gibbs has been standing outside his door filled with concern and horror at being awakened by his screaming nightmare-ridden Senior Field Agent. Gibbs knows that he cannot enter or try to wake him as Tony will wake up crying into his shirt, and when he is himself he will insist that he is fine, will refuse any comfort, and will stay awake the rest of the night or get in his car and drive home. He might then have a few quiet days at the office and be absent from Gibbs’ house for the next few weeks which doubly hurts Gibbs, to be deprived of his SFA’s company as well as to know that Tony is punishing himself for his own perceived ‘weakness’. So now all Gibbs does is stand outside the door, wishing that he can do more. Tony is who he is, as Gibbs told Vance earlier, and he does not know how to accept help even when freely given by those who love him. So Gibbs’ heart breaks, hearing the gasps and stifled sounds of pain when Tony finally wakes up. It is a bad night as Tony ends up throwing up before going back to bed, but even though it hurts, there is nothing Gibbs can do. He waits until all is quiet and Tony’s breathing evens out as he falls back into sleep, and he sneaks into the guest room, taking in the form now buried under the blankets and quilt and pillow. Gibbs watches him for a few minute, then sighs and goes back to his own bed.

In the morning, Tony wakes up to the smell of coffee. He stretches luxuriously. He doesn’t know why but he always seems to sleep better at Gibbs’ house. He’d managed to fall back to sleep despite the nightmares, and at home that would have never happened - he would have been up watching movies, playing piano (there is a reason why he paid to soundproof his apartment) or he might have even just showered and gone back to work. He crawls out of bed, hits the head, and shuffles downstairs in his boxers and t-shirt and bare feet. He doesn’t think he can make it to the shower without caffeine. Grunting a wordless greeting to Gibbs, he pours himself a cup and doctors it with sugar and hazelnut creamer, sits down at the kitchen table and sips his coffee quietly. Gibbs has to contain a smile. Tony’s hair is tousled and disheveled, his jaw is lightly stubbled, his usually wide and expressive green eyes are sleep heavy, and his unflappable aura of good humor and mischievous merriment is missing. This is DiNozzo without masks, first thing in the morning, and is somehow one of Gibbs’ favorite DiNozzos, a slow, prickly creature who growls and grunts and takes his time, before his brain wakes up and begins moving at its customary breakneck and frenetic pace. He only wishes that DiNozzo had been able to sleep through the night without being plagued by nightmares.

Tony yawns and his eyelids seem to grow heavier despite the coffee that he has curled his hands, his entire body around. He scrubs his face tiredly and drinks his coffee.

“So whodunit?” Gibbs asks him.

Tony blinks sleepily for a minute before the caffeine begins working. He yawns and stretches until his spine cracks noisily into place (Gibbs tries not to stare as his t-shirt rides up while he stretches, treating him to a teasing expanse of lightly furred, tanned, well defined ab muscles and that tantalizing happy trail leading into his boxers), and gives Gibbs a wide smile. “Ah, the case,” he says, his voice husky with sleep but the customary merriment beginning to creep into his voice. Gibbs suppresses a shudder at the husky tone and forces himself to turn away from the smile. Some days, it is hard for him to turn his feelings off, and apparently today was going to be one of those days. Tony shows no sign that his usual bubbly personality has been affected by his nightmare interrupted night.

The younger man begins chattering about the case, bringing up his clues and deductions, and succinctly yet humorously summing up his discoveries of the previous night. Gibbs cannot dispute the logic and nods appreciatively. “Take McGee and pick him up,” Gibbs tells him, “after you ‘let’ them solve it for themselves?”

Tony smirks, his green eyes sparkling with good humor. “How else are they gonna learn? I’m not going to be able to solve every case for them,” he says reasonably. Gibbs does not know how Tony can bounce back so quickly since all Gibbs wants to do right now is take the beautiful man into his arms and just hold him and comfort him. His screams had been heartrending.

Gibbs refills Tony’s coffee, and is unable to resist dropping his hand on his head, rubbing his head gently, running his fingers through his soft hair. Tony practically purrs at the contact, making Gibbs think of a playful kitten. “Good job, Tony,” he says softly, and brings the cream and sugar to the table so Tony does not need to get up. As always, Tony laps up the compliment, vibrating happily as he doctors his coffee.

Halfway through his second mug of coffee, Tony stands and offers to make breakfast. Gibbs nods – they have time. Tony begins rummaging through Gibbs’ fridge, and asks if omelets sound good. Gibbs nods and takes a seat. Tony moves confidently around the kitchen, pulling out pans, bowls and food preparation equipment, comfortable in the older man’s kitchen, knowing where everything is, given how much time he has spent cooking there over the years. One of the things that not many people know is that Tony is a very good cook, having spent much of his childhood with the DiNozzo kitchen staff. Tony has always preferred to participate rather than spectate. He doesn’t cook for many people now, but every so often Gibbs is treated to a homecooked meal worthy of a professional chef when Tony gets the urge. This morning, Gibbs enjoys watching the boxer-clad Tony skillfully break eggs one-handed – lobbing the eggshells with precision into the open trash bin like the former college basketball star that he was, whisking, and with machine-like efficiency chopping ham, onion and broccoli into uniformly sized pieces. The play of muscles in his chest, shoulders and arms under his shirt as he cooks is fascinating and Gibbs has to force himself not to stare.

Tony places a plate with the perfect omelet and buttered toast in front of Gibbs, along with silverware and an automatic refill of Gibbs’ coffee. “Mangia,” he tells Gibbs, while he quickly prepares his own omelet.

Gibbs digs in, enjoying the perfect concoction, admiring the gooey stretch of cheese as he cuts into the omelet. In a few minutes, Tony has joined him at the table with his own plate and is busily digging in. “I’m starving,” he admits. “I think I may have forgotten to eat dinner last night.”

“Ya gotta eat, DiNozzo,” Gibbs grumbles.

“I know but I just got so caught up,” Tony grins easily. “I’m easily distracted, what can I say.” Tony eats, as he does everything else, with enjoyment and gusto. When they are done with breakfast, Tony clears the dishes, filling and running the dishwasher, cleaning and sanitizing the sink, and wiping down the counters before he runs up to shower and dress. Something else that would surprise most people is that Tony is a bit of a neat freak – his apartment is nearly always immaculate and although he has a cleaning service, Gibbs is fairly sure that the service usually does not have to do very much.

Wearing comfortable jeans and a dark gray button down shirt from his go bag, his hair teased to perfection, he is ready to go in twenty minutes. Gibbs takes in the clean masculine scent, and the smattering of chest hair peeking out from the open collared shirt, and is happy that he is known to be a functional mute as making conversation would be difficult. He doesn’t know how but Tony has improved with age – where before, he had been slender and lithe with a mellow tenor voice, now he has filled out more, more muscular and powerful, his shoulders seemed wider and his chest deeper, and his age-deepened voice filled Gibbs’ thoughts some days. The button-down shirt hugs his broad shoulders and has been tailored to fit him perfectly, showing off his toned biceps and still-slender waist.

Gibbs shakes his head silently. He has become maudlin in his old age. Tony has always been Tony, golden, beautiful and unattainable. The consummate flirt and playboy. He drives while Tony chatters away next to him, flitting from subject to subject, pulling out movie references and making him grin with some of his more humorous comments.

At work, after Tony surreptitiously leads McGee and Bishop to the conclusions that he has already outlined to Gibbs, and after they fill in some of the blanks that had been plaguing him the previous night, he and McGee head out to pick up the suspect. When they return, Tony is hiding a limp and sporting a split lip but he is quite upbeat.

McGee admits to Gibbs that when the suspect ran, Tony took off after him, tackled him and had to forcibly restrain him after the suspect threw a punch. Tony whines when he is sent down to be examined by Ducky but returns with an all clear. Just a slight re-aggravation of his knee and the split lip will resolve itself with time. No lasting harm done.

“Not even a mild concussion, Boss,” he jokes and Gibbs delivers a headslap. “Good thing, too, cause if I had been concussed, that would have caused brain damage, Boss.” Second headslap. Tony laughs.

They break the suspect in interrogation, Tony talking circles around him while Gibbs stands in the corner growling. This man had damaged his Tony and Gibbs does not like anybody who harms his family. Especially Tony.

The case is closed and everyone is working on their reports by mid-morning. Todd the mailroom guy comes around with his cart and drops mail off. There is a flat blue envelope in Tony’s inbox.

“What’d you get, Tony?” McGee says teasingly when Tony picks it up. “It doesn’t have a SWAK, does it?”

“Bite your tongue, McGoo,” Tony grumps. But he looks puzzled and cautious. The return address is Long Island, which is where he grew up.

“You gonna open it or just keep looking at it?” Bishop wants to know.

Throwing a frown at her, Tony pulls his knife out, flicks it open, and slits open the envelope. Very carefully, he peers in, holding his breath (the threat of blue lights and drowning on land still in his mind) and sees one small sheet of paper. He pulls it out with his long fingers. It is a very short note, written in a familiar scrawl.

_Anthony bello,_  
_I saw you the other day, after so many years. You are as beautiful as you ever were. Think of me, bello mio, innamorato mio._  
_Always,_  
_G_

Tony gasps and pales, dropping the note on his desk as if it burned him. His heart begins to pound and his hands tremble uncontrollably.

“What is it?” McGee is now concerned.

“Uhmm…” Tony is breathing fast. He cannot come up with an answer. He feels ill. He runs for the head and barely makes it to a stall before throwing up violently.

Gibbs has caught part of this as he walks down the stairs from MTAC. “What’s going on McGee?” he barks, his gut roiling. Something is wrong.

“I don’t know, boss. One minute he’s happily opening his mail, and the next…” McGee goes over to Tony’s desk and uses tweezers to flip the note over. “Scented notepaper, and seems to be just a love letter. I’m sure Tony gets tons of those.”

“What’s so special about this one?” Bishop wonders.

“It’s not from Wendy,” McGee muses. “Who’s G? I didn’t think Tony had many serious relationships before or after Wendy.”

They give Tony ten minutes but he does not return. Growling, Gibbs tells McGee to bag the letter and the envelope and take it down to Abby. McGee protests feebly, thinking that Gibbs is overreacting but Gibbs glares him into submission. Then Gibbs strides into the head to check on Tony.

He finds Tony sitting on his heels, dry heaving into a toilet bowl.

“Hey,” he says gently.

Tony moans, the sound a long low of pain. He tries to speak but breaks off to continue dry heaving. Gibbs places a hand on Tony’s shoulder and is surprised when he flinches and scrambles away, placing his back against the wall, pulling his feet and head in, covering his head with his arms and curling up into himself, making himself as small as he could be.

“What is it?” Gibbs tries again, using the voice that he uses for traumatized children and abused animals. “Can you tell me?”

Tony looks up at him, his eyes wild. “No,” he tells Gibbs. “I can’t tell you. I just need a minute, OK? Can you just give me a minute? Please? Alone?”

“Who is G, Tony?” Gibbs does not give up.

Tony shudders and begins rocking himself and pulling at his hair. “No, no, no,” he mumbles, suddenly sounding very young. “It’s over. I’m fine. I’m _fine_ ,” he insists, speaking more to himself than to Gibbs. “Get it together, Anthony,” he tells himself firmly, as if Gibbs isn’t even there.

Gibbs watches as Tony struggles for another few minutes before he regains control and pulls himself together. As the mask slips into place, Tony’s breathing evens out and he stops himself from yanking on his hair. He looks up at Gibbs and accepts the hand that is held out to help him up.

He clears his throat. “Uhm, yeah. So kind of a blast from my past. Bad memories,” he shudders, his mask slipping a little, before it slips back into place. “Don’t really want to talk about it. Did you um, read the letter?”

Gibbs nods, keeping his piercing eyes on Tony.

Tony sighs. “It’s not a threat,” he says tiredly. “Just a stupid note. Let it go.”

Gibbs gives him a long look before nodding. He does not tell Tony that Abby is running tests on the evidence. Gibbs is not willing to let this go.

For the rest of the day, Tony pretends as if nothing happened but he does not look for the note, thankful that his teammates have taken away the offending item. He tries not to think about the sender, or hear his voice calling him Anthony bello. He zones out every so often but since they are finishing up their case reports, Gibbs does not call him out. When Gibbs tells everyone to leave early, Tony grabs his stuff and flees without a goodbye, not even waiting for the elevator, scrambling down the stairs instead.

McGee and Bishop exchange concerned glances and look at Gibbs questioningly. He replies with a death glare and the two scurry away, but Gibbs and his famous gut agree, they would need to watch Tony closely for the next few days.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Tony is already at his desk when McGee and Bishop arrive. There are dark circles under his eyes, and Tony is decked out in an elegant suit, crisp shirt, immaculate tie and shiny shoes – armor. He looks like he has just stepped out of a designer catalog, except for the haunted look in his eyes. He looks like he has not slept.

“Did you get any sleep last night, Tony?” McGee asks him. Tony ignores the question and keeps his eyes on the cold case file that he is working on.

The morning continues in silence, punctuated only by the sound of papers flipping as the team works on cold cases. Gibbs makes sure that he is present when Todd the mailroom guy begins his rounds.

Tony freezes and pales dramatically when another blue envelope is placed in his inbox. His mouth goes dry, his heart rate spikes and his breaths comes in short, quick pants. Fingers trembling, he pulls out his knife and opens the envelope with it. He tips it and a photograph falls out. He looks at it, gasps, his lips trembling now, and in one smooth motion, he pulls his trash can over and vomits violently into it.

His teammates are around him in a flash. Breathing hard, Tony tries to stand, finding himself strangely weak kneed. Suddenly he is overcome with anger. He is _not_ a victim! Why is he behaving like one? Growling, he drives his knife into his desk forcefully impaling it a few inches deep, pushes past McGee and stalks to the elevator, filled with a mind-numbing rage.

Gibbs glances at the photograph – it is faded with that reddish tint typical of photos from the 1970s, an old photo of an adorable tow-headed boy with huge, sad, green eyes and a serious expression. It is summer and he is shirtless on a beach, wearing only baggy shorts in this photo. It is only half of a photograph. An adult’s arm is thrown around the boy but the photo has been cropped so the boy’s companion is not visible, only his bare arm. Gibbs runs after Tony and slides in between the elevator doors before Tony can escape.

He throws the emergency off button, and the elevator stalls and darkens. Before he can say anything, Tony roars furiously and punches the elevator wall hard, denting it a little. He continues to roar but Gibbs restrains him before he can punch the wall again.

“Tony,” he tries to calm him. “DiNozzo!” he raises his voice over Tony’s angry yelling, administering a sharp head slap which seems to bring Tony back. Tony is breathing hard, chest heaving, his eyes are spitting angry green flames. For a second, Gibbs wonders if Tony is going to punch him too. “Are you with me?” he asks.

Still panting, Tony nods. “I’m with you, Boss,” he replies through his angry pants.

“Good,” Gibbs lets Tony’s arms go and places a hand carefully on the younger man’s shoulder. “Let’s have Ducky take a look at your hand, OK?”

Tony looks down at his hand, surprised. The pain hasn’t even registered yet. He nods and swallows with difficulty. The adrenalin rush is dying down and he has to fight the urge to curl into a ball and hide.

“Then we’re gonna have to talk about this,” Gibbs warns him gently, as he pushes the button for Autopsy and reactivates the elevator.

As Ducky examines Tony’s hand (luckily his left hand, and not his dominant shooting hand), Gibbs stands outside Autopsy and calls McGee, telling him to bag Tony’s mail and take it to Abby.

“Boss, this is a picture of Tony,” McGee says. “But not how I pictured Tony as a kid, Boss. He doesn’t have that happy spirit like Tony has. This kid’s eyes are old and sad. And there’s writing on the back.”

“What does it say?”

“Anthony bello, I remember you. Beautiful then, still beautiful now. I miss you. Innamorato mio, Always, G,” McGee reads. Gibbs can barely contain the growl. “Boss?” McGee is hesitant. “’Bello’ means beautiful, and ‘innamorato mio’ means my beloved in Italian,” he says softly. “Boss, Tony can’t be more than ten or eleven in this picture. That’s an adult’s arm around him, and I’m really not liking the conclusions I’m drawing from this, Gibbs.” McGee sounds like he is trying hard to contain his anger.

“Take it to Abby and see what she can find. Run the return address. Find out who G is,” Gibbs orders him. “Get to work, McGee.”

“How’s Tony? We heard the yelling…” McGee trails away.

Gibbs blows out his breath in frustration. “Not good, McGee.”

“Take care of him,” McGee breathes and hangs up.

Ducky and Palmer take x-rays of Tony’s hand but luckily there are no broken bones. However it is badly bruised and swollen. Ducky is gently wrapping the hand while Palmer fusses over Tony when Gibbs walks into Autopsy.

“My dear boy, you must not do this to yourself,” Ducky is telling him. “You’re very lucky you didn’t break any bones, but this is going to hurt a lot for the next few days. What brought this on?”

“Walls usually win against flesh and bone,” Palmer adds. “That’s why you shouldn’t punch them.”

Tony shrugs. “I’m used to pain,” he says. “I’m ready to get back to work now.”

Palmer brings an ice pack and places it on Tony’s hand. “You should keep this on for a while,” he tells his friend.

Ducky shoots a worried glance at Gibbs. “You’re with me, DiNozzo,” Gibbs tells him. “Unless you want to speak to Ducky about this?” trying to give Tony some options.

Tony sighs and keeps his eyes on the floor. “I’d rather not talk about this at all, Gibbs,” he says softly. “Can’t I just get back to work?”

“Abby is working on your mail,” Gibbs tells him. “McGee says there was a message on the back of the photo.”

Tony closes his eyes and his breath hitches. “Fuck,” he whispers softly.

Ducky and Palmer look questioningly at Gibbs who shakes his head to cut them off. Later, he signals with his expression.

“Do you want to know what it says?” Gibbs asks him gently.

“Not particularly,” Tony wraps his arms around himself and begins worrying a thumbnail with his teeth. “I can guess though,” he says derisively.

“You want to come with me to Abby’s and look at it?” Gibbs is still unbelievably gentle.

Tony looks up at him in terror. In all the years that Gibbs has known him, he has never seen this expression on Tony’s face. Even when he was dying from the plague, Tony had kept his sense of humor, and then, when he thought he was on his last legs, he had been painfully stoic, showing absolutely no fear. But here, Tony shakes his head, “I can’t,” he whispers and looks down again.

Gibbs places a hand on Tony’s cheek, gently, unsure if Tony will flinch away from his touch again. The younger man closes his eyes, breathes easier and leans into the touch, causing Gibbs’ heart to stutter. “Let’s go get coffee, OK?”

Tony nods and silently follows Gibbs, so out of it he doesn’t even acknowledge Ducky or Palmer. Gibbs makes placating gestures to Ducky. They have to stop at the bullpen to pick up their weapons and badges, and Gibbs yanks the knife out of Tony’s desk, folds it and hands it back to him. Tony keeps his eyes downcast and doesn’t respond to McGee or Bishop. Wordlessly, he follows Gibbs to his car, keeping a half step behind Gibbs in his customary position.

Gibbs drives to the diner and gets coffee and hot chocolate to go, leaving the now mute Tony in the car. He decides to take Tony home to his house to see if time in the basement will help him open up.

When they get to Gibbs’ house, Tony drops heavily onto the couch seeming to run out of steam, and sits sipping his hot chocolate. Gibbs makes tuna sandwiches and brings them to the living room. “Eat,” he tells Tony.

Ever obedient, Tony tries to eat and manages to down a third of the sandwich while Gibbs finishes his own.

Gibbs clears their lunch away and brings Tony another hot chocolate. “Tony, you know you can tell me anything right?” he starts.

Tony nods, his eyes still downcast.

“Who is G?”

“He’s a ghost of Christmas past,” came the reply. As Gibbs remains silent, Tony feels compelled to speak. “He’s the devil,” he says sadly.

“When did you know him? When you were a child?”

Tony nods. “After my mother died,” he stammers softly.

“Who was he to you?”

“One of Senior’s friends.”

Gibbs’ fists curl in anger. Another reason to kill the stupid man who shouldn’t have been allowed to be a father, but he stays silent. In the state he is in now, if Tony senses any anger in Gibbs, he will withdraw, assuming that the anger is aimed at him and that he has screwed up somehow. Yet another of Senior’s legacies – Tony always assumes that he is the one who has done something wrong. Gibbs waits silently, keeping his face calm and his breathing even.

Finally, after sitting silently for a half hour, Tony seems to come to a decision. He cannot bottle this up and if he has to tell anyone, Gibbs would be the person he would speak to. “He had a son who was a few years older than me, and using that as an excuse, he volunteered to let me stay over when Senior was out of town and stuff,” he starts speaking, his voice so soft it was barely above a whisper. “He liked that I spoke Italian, because his son refused to learn. So he wanted me to hang out with him. And you know, stupid little me, nobody'd ever paid any attention to me in my life. Nobody ever cared before, what happened to me. Both of my parents were pretty drunk all the time and I spent my time with the nanny and kitchen staff even before my mom died. So anyway it turned my head. I liked that he wanted to talk to me and hang out with me. I liked that he wanted my company. And nobody was paying him to do it. Everybody else had to be paid to care about me.”

“How old were you? Eight?” Gibbs asks.

Tony nods, and Gibbs has to tamp down the horror that he feels that an eight year old could be made to feel so inconsequential, and that of course Tony would have been smart enough to know that his parents have surrounded him with paid caregivers in lieu of their own loving attentions.

“It wasn’t stupid, Tony,” Gibbs tells him softly. “It wasn’t stupid to enjoy being spoken to, and to be cared for. It’s only natural. And you were just a baby and you just lost your mother.”

Tony waves it away. “Anyway, after a few months, he started touching me…” he trails away. “And eventually he was – uh – molesting me, and he – uh – he made me have sex with him.” Tony closes his eyes, “I didn’t really say no, I guess, cause he told me he loved me. He told me I was beautiful. He kept on doing it even when I told him I didn’t like it. I can’t remember if I’d turned nine by then. I was a kid.”

“Did you tell anyone he was abusing you?” Gibbs is surprised that the question came out so gentle as inside he is a mass of anger.

“Tried to. I told Senior once and he just punched me in the face for telling him lies. Granted, he was probably plastered when I told him, so I should have maybe picked a better time for it.”

“Senior punched you… in the face?” Gibbs is livid and cannot hide it anymore.

Tony looks up at his harsh tone, his eyes glassy, devoid of emotion. “He usually kept it away from my face – harder to hide the bruises there,” his tone is flat and empty. “I told our housekeeper about G, but Senior just replaced her. I had enough just to deal with Senior. I told a teacher about Senior once, and they made him cut a business trip short so they could talk to him but in the end all I got was a good whipping and nothing else came of it. Nobody believed me about Senior, why would anyone believe me if I spoke about the other stuff. So I stopped telling anyone.”

“So this G is sexually abusing you and Senior is physically abusing you at the same time?” Gibbs exclaims angrily.

Tony sighs and rubs his eyes. “It’s unfucking-believable, I know. Terrible plot line for a movie. Over the top, pathetic and boring – I’d give it a half star rating. It’s really not anybody’s problem now, I’ll deal with it. I’ve always dealt with it,” he says tiredly.

“How long did G do this to you?” Gibbs asks.

“Until I got myself disowned and sent to boarding school. Until I was twelve.”

Gibbs slams his fist on the coffee table, roaring his anger. Tony jumps and curls himself into a ball on the couch which makes Gibbs feel awful.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Gibbs says after he has managed to wrestle his emotions. “I just want to kill them for you,” he spits out.

Tony looks up, surprised at the depth of emotion in Gibbs’ words. Gibbs is furious, but not at him, instead he is angry for him. It is the first time that anyone has ever believed his story. Tony suddenly realizes that he isn’t surprised that of course Gibbs believes him – even when the FBI had damning evidence that Tony is a murderer, Gibbs never once doubted him. Gibbs has always believed in him.

He starts laughing and his eyes fill with tears. Of course Gibbs is on his side. Gibbs always has his six.

“What’s so funny?” Gibbs asks him, suddenly afraid that Tony is getting hysterical and if he should call Ducky.

Tony folds his arms on top of his knees and places his chin on his arms, and smiles at Gibbs. “I kind of want you to kill them for me,” he finally says. “But it’s too late. They’d only put you in jail. And the statute of limitation on this is way over. It was over thirty years ago and I’m not a poor defenseless little boy anymore. It’s time I just got over this crap. I thought I had but the out of the blue letter and the photo freaked me out. But I’m fine, Boss. I’ll be OK now. I’m not a lonely kid anymore.”

Gibbs pulls Tony into a tight hug. After a moment of hesitation, Tony relaxes into the hug and puts his arms around the older man. He sighs.

“You’re not alone anymore,” Gibbs tells him gruffly, rubbing the back of his head soothingly. “You know that, don’t you?”

Tony buries his face in Gibbs’ neck and nods, breathing in his scent – coffee and sawdust and a hint of Old Spice. It is both calming and arousing. How fucked up was he, he thought, that he could still react to his boss even when he is distressed.

“You’re not alone and we are going to get to the bottom of this.”

Tony pulls away and looks into Gibbs’ blazing blue eyes. “Does everybody know then?” he asks hesitantly. “Was the message on the photo explicit?”

“Not explicit, but you can certainly draw your own conclusions,” Gibbs admits.

“So everybody knows,” Tony’s voice is small. “Just peachy.”

“When I spoke to McGee, he sounded like he’s ready to kill G for you too.”

Tony smiles and takes a deep shuddering breath. “Why would he even start sending me notes? Why now? He’s a pedophile, and I’m in my forties. What would he want with me now? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“You want to go back to the office and help us figure this out? You can’t be part of the investigation though, Tony. But we will need to question you as a witness, and figure out what’s going on. You’re right – it doesn’t make sense.”

“Oh god,” Tony covers his face in despair. “I buried all this, and I never looked into him. Never made sure that he didn’t ever hurt another kid. Oh god, Boss, it’s all my fault that other kids have been hurt. I’m a coward.”

“Hush, Tony. It’s not your fault. And you don’t know that he abused anyone else. Tell me his name and we can look into this. You can do something about it now, Tony.” Gibbs pulls him back into a hug.

“You should hate me, Gibbs. I’m just useless. Used. Dirty.” The words are heartbreaking, whispered into Gibbs’ shoulder.

“No Tony, you aren’t. You’re strong – you overcame this and now you’re a badass federal agent who helps people. You help people who can’t help themselves, Tony. You made something of yourself, and you are a good person. This was never your fault and you can’t let yourself think things like that. You’re the strongest person I know,” Gibbs voice is firm and calm.

“Did you just call me badass?” the tiny smile is exactly what Gibbs was hoping for when he used the word.

Gibbs gently slaps his head.

Tony nods and leans into Gibbs’ body resting his head on the older man’s shoulder. He sighs. Gibbs is rubbing his back and telling him that everything was going to be OK and that he would take care of everything, and in the circle of his arms, Tony believes it. Gibbs is safety, security and protection. And he was so tired – lack of sleep, plus the letters and the shadow of the past feel like a heavy weight on his chest. There is a feeling of being strangled and a struggle to breathe – being in Gibbs arms is a balm for it all. His breathing evens out and his eyelids grow heavy, and he slides into a deep, exhausted sleep, safe in those strong arms.

Gibbs presses soft kisses to Tony’s temple and gently maneuvers it so the sleeping man is lying down with his head pillowed on Gibbs’ lap. Even in sleep, Tony looks stressed and has curled himself into a ball tinier than anyone with his 6’ 2” strapping build should ever be able to do. Gibbs loosens and eases Tony’s tie off and undoes the top three buttons of his shirt to make him more comfortable. He runs his hand through Tony’s soft hair and makes some quiet phone calls while his SFA sleeps.

He tells McGee that Tony will be in to make a statement later. When McGee receives confirmation of his earlier suspicion, he swears profusely, threatening death and dismemberment to the unknown G. Gibbs waits for the younger agent to calm down.

“I-is Tony OK, Boss?” McGee stammers finally. “Bishop and I heard him yelling in the elevator and, well, we’re worried. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him make that noise before.”

“He’s sleeping now. I think he’ll feel better when he wakes up.”

“Director Vance has been asking questions. What should I tell him?”

“I’ll call him now. You don’t have to tell him anything.” Gibbs hangs up abruptly, as he often does. He calls Vance and gives him a short recap of the situation, leaving out any mention of Senior, sticking only to information directly pertaining to the mail that Tony received.

Vance is surprised into silence. “DiNozzo was a victim of sexual abuse as a child?” he finally says, shaken.

“Yep.”

“Our Tony DiNozzo?” It is inconceivable to Vance that the fun-loving womanizing prankster could be hiding something so traumatizing from his childhood, and be as functional and well-adjusted as he seemed to be.

“Yep.”

“Is he OK? I saw the knife in his desk and heard the uproar in the elevator.”

“He’s OK.” Gibbs smiles when he sees the sleeping Tony relax more as he keeps running his fingers through his hair and rubbing his head soothingly. “He was caught off-guard. This was over thirty years ago. We need to figure out why it’s being dragged up now.”

Vance and Gibbs decide that they should involve the FBI so Gibbs’ next call is to Fornell to ask him to meet them at the Navy Yard in a couple of hours. He expressly tells him not to bring Agent Sacks.

Then Gibbs calls Abby who is off the charts worried about Tony, and rightly so, and tries to calm her down. In order to stop her from storming over to his house to look at Tony for herself, Gibbs fumbles with Tony’s cell phone (Gibbs’ own phone is a dinosaur and doesn’t take pictures) and Abby talks him through how to take a picture and then text it to her. Abby receives the picture of the sleeping Tony and sighs – he looks completely out of it and exhausted. She agrees that they should let him sleep.

“Bossman, is Tony’s head in your lap?” she asks when she realizes what she is looking at.

“Abs…” Gibbs warns her.

Abby squees and coos about how cute it was, making Gibbs hold the phone away from his ear. Gibbs sighs. “Don’t wake him with your squealing,” he gripes at her. “He’s tired.”

Abby grows serious. “We have to make this right for him, Gibbs. This G person is going down,” she says menacingly. “Nobody does this to our Tony and gets away with it.”

Gibbs agrees. Finally Gibbs calls Ducky who has been briefed by McGee, Bishop and Abby as to what is going on with Tony. Gibbs tells him that Tony has fallen asleep and he will bring him back in a couple of hours and would like Ducky to check him out again.

For the next two hours, Gibbs sits on his couch, petting Tony’s head soothingly and watching his sleeping form intently. Gibbs has managed to soothe the frown lines away from the younger man’s forehead and his lips are relaxed. He has gradually uncurled from the uncomfortable tight ball, straightening out a little on his side.

Gibbs’ emotions are everywhere – he is consumed with anger and wants to maim and slowly kill the man who hurt Tony so long ago; he is bubbling with a murderous rage for the Senior DiNozzo for everything he’s ever done including the ability to keep hurting his son even now; and he is filled with sadness, empathy and helplessness for the torture that the gorgeous man in his lap had had to endure at such a young age. He is fearful of how all this coming to light now and in such a dramatic way would affect and possibly change Tony’s indomitable spirit. Everybody has a breaking point. Could this be Tony’s? And underneath it all, he is angry at himself for not having been there, not being able to protect Tony back when he was a child, not being able to protect him now from the pain of having to relive it all and recount it for the record, and not shielding him from further pain on cases that would have hit him personally.

He realizes that it is unreal to have been able to protect Tony back then, but he cannot help this feeling. He is also angry that Tony has never even hinted at the extent of the abuse he suffered as a child – of course Gibbs knew that Tony had had a difficult childhood, but for him to have been sexually and physically abused and to come out of it the beautiful person that he is now seems unthinkable. Surely no child could survive all he survived and still be the positive, life-affirming person that Tony is? Become someone who has made it his life’s work to help others and bring peace to other victims and their loved ones? Suddenly Gibbs wonders if now he knows some of the contents of Tony’s awful night terrors.

He sighs, wishing for a refill of coffee, but he refuses to disturb the peacefully sleeping figure, continuing instead to pet, caress and soothe.

While Tony gradually awakens, he purrs deep in his throat with satisfaction at the feeling of the fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp gently, brushing through his hair, caressing his cheek. He smiles sleepily, enjoying the ministrations, leaning into the touch and moaning a little in pleasure.

Finally he blinks his eyes open and realizes that he is on Gibbs’ couch and he is using Gibbs’ lap as a pillow. Confused, he turns his head and sees Gibbs looking anxiously at him, and Gibbs’ hand is still gently caressing his hair and comforting him. Comforting him? What the hell?

Gibbs enjoys the sleepy sounds of pleasure that Tony is emitting as he slowly wakes up. The sight of the rare, beautiful, genuine smile, even before his eyes open is breathtaking. Gibbs has to mentally headslap himself to stop enjoying the sight and sound of the leonine Tony waking up in his lap. _Unattainable. Not yours to enjoy. Stop it_ , he tells himself.

Finally the expressive emerald eyes are fixed on his, and he looks confused. Gibbs can see the exact moment that Tony’s memory of the day returns. He tries to scramble upright, eyes wild, and Gibbs places his arm on Tony’s shoulder, calming him, before helping him sit up. He is sad that the frown lines are back in the younger man’s forehead and his lips have gone from the beautiful smile to the pinched, pursed, stressed line. He squeezes Tony’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Do you want to freshen up? You can feel free to use the shower if you need to. I’ll make coffee,” Gibbs starts to lever himself off the sofa, only to find himself yanked back as Tony clamps onto his hand.

“We have to stop him from doing this to other kids, Gibbs,” Tony’s eyes are now serious and sad. “Did you call Fornell yet?”

“Fornell is probably waiting for us at the Navy Yard.”

Tony nods. “Make the coffee to go then. Time to face the music.”

Tony stands and squares his shoulder, resolute, determined. Gibbs is filled with pride – as always Tony will do the right thing, even if the personal cost is great. He will not be alone in this though, Gibbs knows that the rest of the team will support him, and Gibbs himself will happily tear anyone limb from limb for having caused Tony so much pain.

Tony hits the head, brushes his teeth, washes his face, and puts his head under faucet to wet his head. He dries himself, takes a minute to examine his split lip (insignificant) and his swollen hand (painful but not overly so). Without bothering to fix his hair, he goes into the kitchen and waits while Gibbs prepares their coffees and pours them into to-go carafes. In silence, the men leave the house together and drive back to work.


	3. Chapter 3

When they walk out of the elevator into the bullpen, there are curious eyes on them. Team Gibbs has of course not given out the specifics of what happened earlier, so wild rumors abound. Tony’s outburst with the knife in his desk and the roaring in the elevator which could clearly be heard throughout the floor has caused mass speculation. Had Tony finally had enough of Gibbs’ abuse? Did Gibbs give Tony the split lip? Did Tony get sent another letter filled with Y Pestis? Was Vance going to finally discipline Tony and/or Gibbs? Did an old lover send Tony a threatening letter? Did Tony receive bad news about his father? Was it another undercover assignment gone bad? Did yet another one of Tony’s cars explode? Had Tony finally flipped out for real? Who will win the office pool?

Gibbs glares at the floor and barks at them to get back to work, and Tony has chosen the most blank and non-expressive mask for this moment and gives nothing away. He cannot hide the slight limp from the previous day’s takedown of the suspect, but he calmly walks to his desk, stows his backpack behind it and slips his gun and badge into the drawer. Finally he meets McGee’s and Bishop’s anxious eyes and gives them a small smile and a quiet “hey.”

Adding fuel to the wildfire of the NCIS rumor mill, both McGee and Bishop step up to Tony and envelop him in a quiet group hug. No words are exchanged, for which Tony is grateful. Gibbs’ phone rings. It is Vance, requesting that Gibbs gather his team to meet with Fornell in Vance’s office.

Gibbs tells McGee and Bishop to call Abby, Ducky and Palmer to Vance’s office which they hurriedly do. Then he leads his team up the stairs. Bishop notices that Gibbs has a hand on the small of Tony’s back, quietly protective and reassuring. Tony is calm and collected, but every few minutes his eyes seek Gibbs’ with worry and fear in them, and once he meets Gibbs’ flat blue gaze he calms again.

They arrange themselves around the small conference table in Vance’s office. Gibbs seats himself next to Tony, Fornell and Vance are across the table from them. Abby sits on the other side of Tony, and the others sit around the table. Vance is not entirely surprised that Tony is quiet, eyes downcast. His hair is disheveled, which is very unlike the usually well put together man, he seems to have lost his tie and the top buttons of his shirt are open.

They begin by showing Fornell the mail that Tony has received in the past two days. Abby tells them that she was able to get DNA from the first envelope and fingerprints from the second letter, but no matches have yet been made. She is running more tests and should hopefully have more to report in a few hours.

Tony pulls the bag with the photo to him and looks at it while his team tell their part of the story. He traces a finger around the outline of the child-Tony’s body in the photo, unaware that the sadness in his eyes mirror the desolation that can be seen in the child-Tony’s eyes in the photo. This is something that hits his friends and Director Vance really hard.

When Tony flips the photo over to read the message on the back, his already pale skin pales even further and both Abby and Gibbs instinctively scooch their chairs closer to him, silently offering their support.

_Anthony bello,_  
_I remember you. Beautiful then, still beautiful now. I miss you. Innamorato mio,_  
_Always,_  
_G_

His breath hitches and he closes his eyes and flips the photo over, pushing it away from him. Under the table, his other hand is worrying, fidgeting, pulling at the seams of his pants and Gibbs quietly reaches over and holds his hand, instantly calming him. Instinctively Tony laces his fingers through Gibbs’ and holds on tightly.

Fornell waits until Tony takes a deep breath and looks up to meet his eyes before he begins asking questions. In all the years that they have known each other, even when Tony was framed for murder, or thought dead, never did Fornell ever think that he would have to ask these questions of Tony and see him as a victim.

Quietly, Tony tells them what he told Gibbs earlier. He deafens his ears to the gasps of outrage and outbursts of anger from his teammates, and with clinical detachment recounts the timeline and the escalation of what had been done to him. He leaves off the abuse he suffered at Senior’s hand, but does not absolve him of ignoring his only son’s cries for help, telling them of how he perhaps even enabled G by removing concerned third parties. He assures them that being cut off and sent away to boarding school when he was twelve turned out to be a blessing, as it took him out of G’s control.

When Fornell asks who G is, Tony is silent. Gibbs squeezes Tony’s hand that has remained holding on to his tightly as if he is a lifeline. Tony flashes a look at Gibbs and sees encouragement and acceptance in his eyes, and he nods.

“Senator Garrett Mulroney,” he says quietly. “He and my father used to hang out sometimes, and they used to live a few doors down from us in Long Island. He wasn’t a Senator back then.”

Fornell cringes inwardly. It will not be possible to get justice for Tony given the time that has passed since the crime occurred, but they will now dig into the powerful Senator’s background to find out if there have been other victims.

“I apologize,” Tony isn’t finished speaking, and now his pale cheeks have two spots of color, “because I never came forward. And even when I became a cop, I buried all of this and never wanted to think about it. So I never went back to make sure that he wouldn’t be able to ever hurt anyone ever again. And that is on me.”

Silent tears flow down Abby’s face and she throws her arms around Tony, telling him it isn’t his fault, it was never his fault, and couldn’t have ever been his fault but they can tell that Tony isn’t convinced.

“We will begin digging into Senator Mulroney,” Fornell says, “with the help of your team of course, Gibbs.”

Gibbs nods at him. “And quietly, right?”

Fornell sighs. “We can’t let this leak. Senator Mulroney has a long reach.” Unspoken is the fact that as much as possible they will try to keep Tony’s name out of this.

“Why is he writing to me now?” Tony asks. He hates that his tone is plaintive. He is _not_ a victim, goddammit. He clears his throat and tries to sound less weak. “Why would he? Is he taunting me? Does he want to get caught? If so why now? I don’t understand. Seems like if he wanted to mess with me, he should have done it when I was a cop, before I had you guys as my safety net. I’m not an easy target now.”

Ducky clears his throat. “I have some thoughts on that matter. Either someone is forging these notes…”

“This looks like his handwriting,” Tony interrupts. “And these are things that he called me in private when – when.. well. Anyway. Nobody knows about this. Abby, handwriting analysis please?” and Abby nods. She has attached herself to Tony’s other arm, putting her head on his shoulder.

“Or,” Ducky continues, “maybe the Senator is ill. I will research medical conditions that might cause him to do this – some kind of neurological disorder perhaps?”

Tony slams his open palm (the bandaged, hurt hand as Gibbs is still holding on to his other hand) violently on the table, making everyone jump. “After all this, he doesn’t get to claim that a sickness made him do it,” he growls. “He doesn’t fucking get to be excused for what he did. What he could have done to others before or after me. What he might still be doing today because I wasn’t strong enough to stop him!”

Abby throws her arms around the angry man again, and Gibbs holds his agent’s hand in both his hands, rubbing his thumbs on the back of Tony’s hand trying to soothe him. Tony takes deep breaths and calms himself.

“Or he’s just one sick fuck,” McGee spits out venomously, “trying to fuck with your head.” Tony smiles gratefully at him.

“You can’t be involved in this investigation,” Fornell tells Tony.

“I know,” he sighs. “I guess you guys need to do our – your – thing and I should get back to cold cases.”

“You need time off, DiNozzo?” Vance offers.

Tony shudders. “What would I do with myself?” he makes a face. “I’d rather stay here and work cold cases or help out on other teams or something.”

“We are keeping a lid on this until we know more,” Vance tells everyone. “Nobody else but the people in this room must know anything.”

They nod. Bishop speaks up. “Um, Director? There are a lot of rumors out there, sir. On the floor. People have been asking me to confirm all kinds of wild theories. We should get our stories straight.”

They debate their cover story, and it ends up with a simple and plausible one that Tony is receiving threatening letters which caused him to lose his temper and for the outburst, he has been benched. Threats to federal agents are investigated by the FBI which will justify Fornell’s presence.

Tony is sent down to his desk while the team work out their next steps. When people come by to try to pump the usually good-natured gossipy Senior Field Agent for information, Tony remains tight lipped and gives monosyllabic non-responses to all the questions. Recalling the knife impaled deeply in his desk and the very angry roaring from the elevator, nobody dares to ask probing questions, scurrying away when he turns his still angry eyes at them.

Nobody wants to mess with an angry Anthony DiNozzo.

For his part, it is not difficult for Tony to hold on to his anger, but underneath it he can feel himself starting to lose control. Everyone will know, he thinks. Everyone will know that he let himself be abused. He will have to leave NCIS. He will have to leave law enforcement. He will have to leave DC. What will he do with himself when he loses everything? But before he can get into a full-blown panic, he feels Gibbs’ calming hand on his shoulder.

“You with us, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asks quietly.

“Yes Boss,” he says, breathless and grateful. Gibbs holds his gaze until he is certain that Tony has regained control. Tony doesn’t know how Gibbs could know what he was thinking but then Gibbs always was a mind reader when it came to him.

Without taking his hand off Tony’s shoulder, Gibbs looks at McGee, Bishop, Abby, Palmer and Ducky. “Get to work,” he barks, and they hurriedly move away.

Ducky leaves after giving Tony’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

“Grab your cold case files,” Gibbs tells Tony. “We’re outta here. Bring your work laptop.”

Tony swallows, and bites his lip. “But, Boss.”

“With me, DiNozzo. Grab what you need to work for today and tomorrow too.”

“Yes, Boss,” came the quiet response.

They spend the rest of the afternoon at Tony’s apartment so he can change out of his suit, pack a few things, and work for a while since his place had wifi. Gibbs stepped out for a little bit that afternoon, conceivably for coffee, but really Gibbs knew that Tony would need some time to himself, maybe play the piano (something he has never done in front of anyone from work, not even Abby, as far as Gibbs knows). But he knew that music and the piano was something that helped ground Tony. After the day he’s had, he definitely needed some grounding.

When Gibbs returns, letting himself in using his key, as he had predicted, Tony is sitting at the piano. His hands are in his lap and his eyes are on the piano keys, but he is obviously a million miles away, lost in thought. Gibbs closes the door louder than he needed to, and loudly shoots in the deadbolts (Tony was law enforcement living in the city in DC, the man was very into deadbolts), but Tony remains motionless.

Gibbs ponders if he should just leave him be and let him come to himself in his own time or if he needs to get Tony out of his own headspace in case he was worrying about the investigation into the Senator. But before he can do anything, Tony’s eyes blink slowly once, he sighs still lost in thought, and his right hand absently begins fingering the keys. Gibbs cannot believe it as Tony’s right hand dances over the keys, playing something complicated, and he could see that Tony’s mind was still far away not even paying attention to what his hand was doing. And if he was that good when he was so distracted, you had to wonder just how good a pianist Tony was if he was actually trying. Tony’s nimble fingers distractedly moved into a different piece after a few minutes, and Gibbs knew he should make his presence known but he doesn’t want to stop listening. After that song ended, Tony segues seamlessly into yet another piece. He breaks off halfway and jumps up to look at the papers he has scattered on top of the closed cover of the baby grand.

“Hah!” he mutters, rummages around under the papers to find a pen and begins writing in his notebook.

“Whaddaya got?” Gibbs asks.

DiNozzo jumps and squeaks. “For god’s sakes, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” he grouses, shooting a glare at his boss. “Mighta found something on this cold case. Gotta check something on the laptop first to confirm.”

He limps over to the coffee table, half falling onto the sofa in his hurry, and begins typing furiously. Gibbs goes to sit next to him. Tony’s eyes are focused and his fingers fly over the keyboard. He mutters to himself as he works. Finally he stops and grins impishly at Gibbs. “I think I have a lead on the Caldwell case.”

Gibbs raises an eyebrow. He remembers this case due to the sheer frustration of there being absolutely no leads to follow up on. He listens as Tony, as he had this morning, talks through his discoveries with a mixture of shrewd cop-talk and humor. Gibbs nods. “Sounds plausible, but wait till after Fornell gives you the all clear before we act on this. You’re supposed to be benched, remember?”

Tony pouts and sighs. “Well, I guess there’s an endless supply of cold cases to occupy my time.”

“So is that what we need to do?”

“Is what what we need to do?”

“Bring in a piano and you’ll solve all the cases faster?”

“Huh?” Tony is genuinely confused.

“I walked in and you were sitting there, didn’t hear me. I thought you were…” Gibbs cannot bring himself to say that he’d thought Tony was brooding about his childhood, but Tony blinks and purses his lips, understanding the unspoken words. “Then you just kept on thinking and your fingers were just moving on the keys – and then you pulled a lead out of your ass.”

Tony raises his eyebrows. “Out of my ass, you say?” his tone is playful.

“Sure looks like it to those of us on the outside.”

“I have trouble focusing on one thing at a time, you know this.”

Gibbs does. This is why Tony babbles so much, or pokes and prods things, or runs around touching things. He needs for his mind to work on several levels in order for him to truly focus. It’s what used to make him such a good student in college – while outwardly he’s at basketball practice, or football practice, or partying with his frat brothers, his mind is actually internalizing the schoolwork, doing homework, and writing papers in his head. Once it’s all been worked out in his head, it doesn’t take long to actually put it down on paper in some format to hand in to his professors. As he used to tell Kate all those years ago, he worked smarter, not harder.

Tony suddenly looks doubtful. “You heard the piano playing?”

“Only a little. And you weren’t even using both hands. Or concentrating.”

“So of course it sucked.”

“No! Tony, you’re really good. No sign of suckage.”

“Did you actually just say ‘suckage’?” Tony’s grin is rewarding. Gibbs cannot help the answering smirk on his own face.

“I believe I did. And you’re deflecting. You’re really good.”

Tony shrugs. “Eh, I used to be better, then I got this really big bastard of a boss, works me so damned hard I have no time to practice. Went down the shitter after that.” He cringes in anticipation of a head slap.

Gibbs pats the back of his head gently. “I really liked what I heard. I was impressed.”

Tony’s blush is adorable. He clears his throat, stands up and begins organizing the papers, reordering them, and stacking them neatly before clipping them together and putting the pile back in its file folder. Gibbs gets them each a beer from the fridge, wanting to let Tony regain his composure but perversely wanting to see if he can make Tony blush some more.

“Maybe you’ll play for me again sometime?” Gibbs finally asks him.

Tony flushes with pleasure and surprise at the request. It is not something he would have expected from Gibbs. Abby has nagged at him to play for her for years now and he has never given in to it, probably the only thing he has ever denied Abby, and here Gibbs was asking him just the one time and he wants to go over and just play something. A Pavlovian response to obey, or was it something else? It feels right to play for Gibbs. Maybe something from the Romantics? Tony suppresses the thought.

Gibbs finds Tony’s embarrassment quite endearing. And becoming. Tony has no idea how he affects the ex-Marine.

“What would you like to hear?” Tony asks, his voice husky. His face turns adorably pinker.

“Whatever you want.”

 _But what I want is you_ , the thought comes unbidden to Tony’s mind, and his face is flaming now. He clears his throat, sips his beer, and nods. OK, he can play for Gibbs. He limps over to the piano and sits down.

“Might be a little choppy on the left hand,” he holds up his bandaged hand, “so please excuse any mistakes.”

Gibbs finds himself holding his breath. Tony was going to play for him! He watches as the beautiful man thinks for a moment, probably trying to decide what to play. Then he places both hands on the keys and with no sheet music to refer to, he begins playing something – it is loud and dramatic and filled with angst, going from chords hammered out almost militaristically to flowing soft notes. The piece is obviously something only a virtuoso can pull off.

When the last notes die away and Tony looks up again. Gibbs finds himself clapping in admiration. Tony brushes it away and comes back to the sofa, sitting down next to the older man again.

“What was that?”

“Rachmaninoff, Prelude. C-sharp minor,” he shrugs.

“I can’t believe Kate bought your two-fingered ‘hunt and peck’ typing routine,” Gibbs tells him, sliding his arm on the back of the sofa and putting his feet up on the coffee table.

Tony laughs at the memory. It is a good one. “She could be pretty blind to some things, especially for a profiler,” he agreed.

Gibbs can’t help himself and rubs Tony’s shoulder with the arm that is practically around him on the back of the sofa. “You didn’t make it easy for her to get to know you.”

Tony shrugs. “I don’t usually make it easy for anyone to get to know me,” he agrees. “But she was a trained profiler.”

“She woulda gotten you eventually,” Gibbs said. And both men fall silent, since Kate never got the chance for ‘eventually’.

“You always saw right through all my crap though,” Tony says quietly, “right from the beginning.”

Gibbs smiles. He rubs the back of Tony’s head again and Tony’s eyes close and he sighs in contentment. Unable to stop himself, he ruffles Tony’s hair, pulls him close, kisses his temple and doesn’t release him immediately. Tony tries to hide his surprise at the move but eventually settles down leaning his head against Gibbs’ shoulder, reveling in Gibbs’ arm around him.

“Wanna watch something?” Gibbs hands Tony the TV remote. Tony clicks around, and finds a sports channel re-running a football game. He keeps the volume low and slowly begins to relax against Gibbs body, sipping his beer.

Before long Gibbs realizes that he has just initiated cuddling, and that Tony has accepted it. Gibbs tells himself that the poor man has had a difficult day and would have taken comfort from a bonobo, and that image makes him chuckle to himself. This makes Tony look up at him questioningly and Gibbs shakes his head and points to the game, unconsciously running his hand up and down Tony’s arm. Tony looks skeptical but turns back, settling his head more comfortably on Gibbs’ chest and pulling his jean-clad legs up off the floor, curling his body up around Gibbs. He really should sit up but he was so tired, and who knew that Gibbs' chest was so comfortable? – he was short of sleep and the last two days had been such an ordeal. His eyelids droop and before he knows it, he has fallen asleep with his head on Gibbs’ chest and Gibbs’ strong arms around his body.

Gibbs discovers that Tony is asleep when he feels a spot of wetness on his shirt. At first he thinks that Tony might be breaking down and crying after the emotional day, but then he realizes that Tony is asleep and drooling on him. He chuckles quietly, tightening his hold around the younger man, and in his sleep, Tony plasters himself to Gibbs’ chest, his folded legs leaning against Gibbs’ thighs, practically in his lap, one arm tucked beneath his body and the other hand clutching a fistful of Gibbs’ shirt, as if it is a security blanket. Gibbs rubs Tony’s shoulders and drops a tender kiss on the top of his head. After all these years, the depth of his feeling for the younger man keeps growing, and he holds him close, protecting him from the world and from his past as he sleeps.


	4. Chapter 4

Gibbs comes awake when his phone chirps and he scrabbles for it on the side table, wanting to silence it before it wakes the still-sleeping Tony who is curled up against his chest and practically in his lap. The room is dark except for the flickering television.

“Yeah, Gibbs,” he rasps quietly.

It is McGee giving him an update on the case. Gibbs listens quietly then grunts, “Go home and start fresh tomorrow.”

“Uh, Boss,” McGee is hesitant again. “How’s Tony? We were thinking maybe we could come over and have dinner with you guys?”

Gibbs glances down, Tony is still clutching his shirt, almost to the point of bringing it into his mouth, and he has somehow managed to stretch one long leg across Gibbs’ lap, almost straddling him in his quest to burrow directly into the warm body. Of course Tony is a cuddler, he sighs, telling his twitching cock to behave.

“Um Boss? Dinner?” McGee prompts him. Gibbs knows that he will not let this go. The team has been shaken by their discovery about Tony’s past and they need to rally around him and show their support – it’s always been that way with his team, more a family than co-workers. Besides, he can guess that Abby has threatened McGee to make this dinner happen and nobody can deny Abby anything.

“What time is it now?”

“1830 hours.”

“My place at 2100,” he agrees. “Tell everyone. You guys bring the food. Tony’s asleep again and I don’t want to wake him until I have to.”

“Thanks, Boss. See you later.”

Gibbs hangs up the phone. Tony begins stirring but he relaxes back into sleep with a breathy moan when Gibbs rubs his back. Gibbs has to take deep breaths to calm himself. He’s wandering into dangerous territory with having Tony plastered against him and moaning and whatnot. _Danger, Will Robinson,_ he tells himself and then laughs inwardly as Tony would be proud of that reference.

Gibbs sits quietly, breathing in the scent of the man in his arms (some kind of light and no doubt expensive cologne mixed with that clean, masculine, earthy eau de DiNozzo), rubbing Tony’s arm and back absently, thinking about the Senator and wondering how this would all turn out, and wishing he had another coffee or beer. But holding Tony is heavenly and there is no way he is going to move until Tony is awake and scrambles away from him, which is what he thinks will happen.

An hour later, Tony slowly awakens, hearing a steady soothing heartbeat in his ear. He is so comfortable and warm, cuddled up against a hard body. In his sleep-haze, he wonders if he’d picked someone up at a bar or something and moans deliciously when talented fingers rub his back. He releases the material of the shirt that he found in his grip and instead runs the hand on the broad hard chest, wraps his arm around the warm body and burrows his face in, wanting to get even closer. One of his legs is thrown over familiar thighs. Tony breathes in the scent – coffee, sawdust, hint of Old Spice. Not a bar pickup then. He must be dreaming about Gibbs again. He looks up and sees the beloved face with the amazing blue eyes – yep, definitely a Gibbs dream, and a good one – and he smiles sleepily and slowly nuzzles his way up and drops lazy, open-mouthed kisses on Gibbs’ neck, loving the sharp intake of breath and muffled groans. He rubs his arousal into Gibbs’ side. It is then that he fully awakens and he freezes. Gibbs is holding him tightly and rubbing circles on his back, hand under his shirt, fingers on his bare skin.

“Um, Gibbs?” Tony is confused, but his voice is deep and husky with sleep, and his breath against Gibbs neck makes the older man moan quietly. And then Gibbs freezes as well.

Tony thinks he should maybe be mortified that he is making out with his boss on his sofa, half asleep, but he can feel the hard bulge in between Gibbs’ leg pressing against his leg, the one that he has thrown over the man’s thighs. While mortification might seem like the way to go, Gibbs hasn’t loosened his grip around Tony’s body, and there’s no way he could have mistaken Tony’s erection to be anything but that. Plus Gibbs had been moaning from his kisses, right? Or was this really a dream?

Gibbs looks down at him, and suddenly they are almost nose to nose. Tony sees that his blue eyes are wide, pupils dilated and he is breathing fast. Could that be? Is Gibbs looking at him with desire? “Hey,” Tony smiles, drawing out the word, as huskily as possible, feeling Gibbs’ cock twitch against his leg.

Before he can stop himself, Gibbs moves closer and presses his lips to Tony’s enticingly full ones. Tony’s eyes fall to half mast and he opens up, allowing Gibbs’ tongue in and dueling it with his own, tasting, licking, nipping back. The kiss deepens and Tony loses all ability to think about anything but the lips, tongue and teeth that are on him, and when they finally pull apart, breathless, lungs craving oxygen, Tony finds that he is now straddling Gibbs, his knees on either side of his boss’s thighs, his fingers in his boss’s silver hair – hair as soft as he’d imagined it would be. Gibbs’ has one hand kneading Tony’s ass, under the jeans, and the other rubbing up and down Tony’s back under his t-shirt.

They gaze deeply into each other’s eyes for a long moment and both moan when Tony shifts his hips and their erections rub against each other through their jeans.

“If this is your way of distracting me from my terrible past, I gotta say, it’s working,” Tony grins and drops a soft kiss on Gibbs’ nose.

Gibbs smiles. “We should probably talk before we go any further,” he whispers as he leans up to claim Tony’s lips again.

“Mmm probably,” Gibbs feels Tony’s voice vibrating in his chest all the way down to his hardened cock. They continue to kiss slowly, passionately, before finally, regretfully pull away from each other again.

“The team wants to have dinner with you tonight,” Gibbs tells him. “They’re worried about you. You know how they are. I won’t be able to hold them off tonight, and I think we’ll need a lot of time to explore…this…between us.”

Tony presses his forehead against Gibbs’ and wraps his arms around his neck. “OK,” he whispers, “as long as you’re not going to pretend that this never happened.”

Gibbs shakes his head. “I won’t,” he promises. “Unless this is a dream.”

Tony pinches his nipple hard, making him yelp and groan. “Feel like a dream?” he is irrepressible.

With a final hard kiss, “Not a dream,” Gibbs tells him. Tony moves off him with a disappointed sigh. He glances at his watch and sees that it is pushing 2000.

“What time will the crew be coming? I assume they’re heading to your place?”

“2100, my house,” Gibbs confirms.

“I’m going to need a quick shower before we go,” Tony says. “Wanna join me?”

Gibbs groans. “Stop it, we’ll be late for dinner at my own house.”

Tony laughs and just to drive Gibbs wild, he sheds his clothes, dropping them on the floor as he walks to his bedroom, and leaves both the bedroom, and the bathroom door open while he showers. Gibbs keeps his eyes glued to Tony’s well-muscled form, admiring his bare ass until he disappears into the shower.

After his shower, Tony dresses in a favorite pair of well-worn jeans mellowed by repeated washing from black to dark gray, an NCIS t-shirt and an OSU hoodie. They gather up the case files, laptop, some DVDs and Tony’s go-bag and head to Gibbs’. On the way, Tony is uncharacteristically silent but Gibbs can almost hear Tony’s brain whirling, churning, worrying and probably coming up with some conclusion that he isn’t going to like.

“Hey. What’s going on in that head of yours?” Gibbs wants to know.

Tony purses his lips. “I’m not just messing around with you, you know that, right?”

Gibbs raises an eyebrow at him.

“I mean it. I don’t know what we’re doing quite yet but I do know that for my part, this isn’t just a game or a one night stand. And if you think you need to give the poor little abused boy a pity fuck, then I don’t think I can handle that either.”

“It’s not a pity fuck or a one night stand for me either,” Gibbs assures him.

Tony nods. “OK then. Glad we cleared that up.”

Briefly, Gibbs caresses Tony’s cheek. “Pity fuck?” Gibbs asks. “Anyone would think you were doling out the pity fucks if they looked at us.”

Tony is genuinely outraged. “That’s just wrong,” he says. “You’re way hotter than me. Ask anyone.”

Gibbs laughs. “You actually really believe that, don’t you?” Tony huffs a response. “Tony, you have always been smoking hot and you know it. And you’ve only improved with age.” Gibbs can almost hear the blush rising in Tony’s cheeks which he pats affectionately. Tony’s insecurities can consume him and Gibbs does not want him to go on a downward spiral.

They barely have time to set Tony’s go bag upstairs and sit with a beer before the team’s scheduled time of arrival. Abby is the first one there. Tony gets up and takes the heavy pot she is carrying into the kitchen, despite her objections. They set it on the stove and turn the burner on low to keep it warm.

“I made jambalaya,” Abby tells him, wrapping him in a long, tight hug. Tony wraps his arms around her and hugs her back.

She gives Gibbs a good hug and he kisses her cheek and hands her a beer. Then she ushers Tony back to the couch and makes him sit down.

“Timmy said you were sleeping,” she is her usual blunt self. “How are you feeling?”

Tony’s cheeks flush, he has always been awkward when people show concern for him. “I was just tired. I’m fine, Abs.”

Abby gazes into his face for a long moment before she nods. “You look better. Rested. I take it the Bossman took good care of you?”

Tony’s blush deepens as he nods his answer, and Gibbs has to stifle a laugh. Soon McGee, Bishop, Ducky and Palmer arrive, each bringing food and drink. McGee has brought Delilah with him and Bishop’s husband Jake is also in attendance. Jake looks terribly concerned and asks about his split lip. Tony smiles and brushes it off as just another day at work.

The evening starts out tense and awkward, as everyone is trying not to mention the case, or what they now know about Tony, but they are all catering to his whims, not letting him do anything and smothering him with their love.

Finally, having had enough of their tender care, Tony stands up and holds his hands palm open in the universal “stop” gesture.

“First, I’m not an invalid. I did not get shot or blown up or beat up or kidnapped or concussed, and neither did I god forbid, get the plague again. I can move all my limbs – no offense Delilah –“ he offers her an apologetic wink, “I _can_ get up and do things for myself like get another beer or go to the head without assistance,” he tells them. “Second, I’m still me and I haven’t actually changed since this morning before everything came out, so quit treating me like I’m going to fall apart. It’s been over thirty years and I survived it then, I don’t see why that is going to change because of what’s going on now. However, I’m not sure I’m going to survive you guys making me feel like a victim now because I’ve never thought of myself that way and I don’t want to start now. I’m still me – still gonna annoy you and pester you and snoop through your things and bore you with my stupid movie references. I might throw up more if he keeps sending me shit, but just take that in stride. I throw up every other day when Gibbs drives us to crime scenes. It’s nothing new for you guys, me throwing up. If you really want to be nice to me, when I get back to work you could maybe bring me a candy bar or a snack every so often. I’d actually really appreciate that. Or better yet, find something and nail that son of a bitch I don’t really care on what charge, and that’d be great too. Third, and I understand that you want to do things for me – it _really_ freaks me out when you guys are really nice to me. You know that! Not just you, Gibbs. Everyone. Don’t make me freak the hell out, OK? Don’t walk on eggshells and put me in a bubble. Do not make me talk about John Travolta and _The Boy in the Plastic Bubble_ – 1976, directed by Randal Kleiser. Fourth…” he peters out, “OK maybe I don’t have a fourth. But surely that’s enough?”

Gibbs bursts out laughing and slowly the group joins in.

“Wait, wait I just thought of a fourth!” Tony tries to get their attention again, which makes everyone laugh harder. He joins in the mirth, although he gives both McGee and Bishop affectionate headslaps.

When everyone is calm again, McGee asks, “What was the fourth thing then Tony?”

Tony bites his lips. “Fourth, if I need help and I don’t know how to ask, maybe you guys can just ask me about it every so often and I’ll try to be honest with you?” his cheeks are hot, the tips of his ears pink. And suddenly, Abby, McGee, Bishop and Palmer are group hugging him in the middle of Gibbs’ living room. Tony looks at Gibbs and Ducky helplessly, seeing the wide smiles on their faces, and sighs putting his arms around his friends. Nostalgia stabs at his heart, remembering the time when he and Ziva had included Abby and McGee in their group hug in the elevator. He closes his eyes and smiles. “Wow and this time we’re nowhere near the elevator.”

McGee chuckles and they exchange a short “I miss Ziva” look.

“Can we eat our dinner now?” Tony whines, which makes everyone laugh again, by its sheer normalcy.

And then the evening goes more smoothly with the usual banter, movie references, and random stories from Ducky. And if Tony’s fingers linger on Gibbs’ as he passes the older man a beer, or if Gibbs drops a casual hand on Tony’s head for a pat, the team doesn’t notice it. Not tonight, when they showed up to care for their friend and end up in a celebration rather than a commiseration.

One by one, they take their leave. Ducky insists on giving Tony a checkup before he goes – Tony’s knee is still bothering him. Ducky watches as he downs three advils as the ME re-wraps the knee. “Keep it elevated and it would not hurt to ice it,” Ducky tells him sternly. Tony agrees meekly.

Abby is the last to leave. She hugs him tightly again. “You know that I love you, right?” she whispers to him.

“I know Abs,” Tony whispers back shyly. “Love you too.”

Finally he and Gibbs are alone again. Luckily the team had cleaned up before leaving, so Tony and Gibbs do not need to do anything. They sit in the living room, staring at each other. Tony is on the couch, his feet on the coffee table and a bag of frozen peas on his sore knee, and Gibbs sits in a chair across the coffee table from him.

“So,” Tony says softly. “Is it time for the talk?”

Gibbs nods.

"You haven't changed your mind?"

Gibbs shakes his head.

“Where do we start?”

Gibbs shrugs.

“In order for us to talk, even functional mutes might have to use words,” Tony tells him, his lips quirking into a grin.

Gibbs nods again. Tony purses his lips, causing a deep dimple to crease his right cheek, distracting Gibbs from other thoughts. He has found that dimple delectable for years, and age has only deepened it, made it more of a manly crease than a boyish dimple.

“How about I ask questions and hopefully they’ll be somewhat yes/no questions so you can just still answer whether you feel like using your words or not?” Tony suggests.

Gibbs smiles and nods, unable to resist quirking an eyebrow at Tony.

“I’ve worked with you for fifteen years, give me some credit on knowing how to talk to you,” Tony huffs. “So, have you always been into men and women?”

Gibbs shakes his head. “Only man is you, Tony.”

“Oh,” Tony is surprised and flattered, and unable to stop the blush from coloring his cheeks, “only me. And I’m not even a redhead,” he quips, to which Gibbs grins. “Do you need to ask me the same question I asked you?”

Gibbs nods.

“OK, now I feel like I’m disappointing you but I’ve always been appreciative of the human form, regardless of gender,” Tony says carefully.

“Not a disappointment. At least one of us will know what we're doing. So you’re bisexual?”

“I don’t really like labels, but I suppose we can go with that. I’ve always been more attracted to the individual person, whether they’re male or female. I’d always thought that from a relationship standpoint, that I’d preferred having a relationship with a woman.”

“And now?”

“Well, not just now, but in the last few years I realized that the reason I didn’t do relationships with men is because, well, I hate to tell you this Jethro,” Gibbs shivers with pleasure, hearing Tony call him Jethro seriously, instead of mockingly as he has been known to do occasionally, “but I’ve been in a relationship with a man for fifteen years. With you, Jethro. Ever since we met and you brought me back with you from Baltimore. I might not have realized it for a while, and ours was never a sexual relationship, but I committed to you from the start, and haven’t been able to commit to anyone else ever since. Man or woman. Notice how all my relationships tend to tank pretty spectacularly? Apparently I only thought I was commitment-phobic. For a long time I didn’t even realize that I was already committed.”

Gibbs nods. “But you’ve had male lovers?” he wants to know.

“I have,” Tony nods, “and given the stigma and homophobia found in many law enforcement organizations, I’ve tended to keep that part of my life under wraps. But I’ve had my fair share of male lovers.” He suddenly pales, “not to mention of course my unpleasant induction into sex was with a man so I guess my history goes pretty far back?”

In a flash, Gibbs is next to Tony pulling him into his arms. “I’m so sorry this is making you think of…”

Tony kisses Gibbs to stop him. “I don’t want to talk about him,” he says firmly. “He has nothing to do with this conversation, OK? I won’t refer to him again and I don’t want to count him in tonight’s Q&A session. Please?”

Gibbs nods reluctantly.

“OK, so hopefully you’re not disappointed in my sexual history – it’s no secret that I’ve always had a healthy sex life. But I have to tell you that I’m actually pretty turned on that you’re kind of a virgin in this matter,” Tony grins, and scoots away out of Gibbs’ arms – Gibbs is rubbing soothing circles on the back of his neck and the small of his back, under his shirt, his fingers making Tony’s skin feel hot and fevered. “I don’t think I can focus on talking if you’re touching me though. At least not right now,” which makes Gibbs laugh. “Next question then. How long have you been attracted to me? I already answered that I’ve been in a relationship with you for fifteen years, so yeah, I’ve had the hots for you from the very beginning.”

“Me too,” Gibbs admits.

“When I joined NCIS?”

“When you tackled me and cuffed me in Baltimore.” Gibbs finds himself blushing at the memory. “So very sexy, tube socks and all,” he tells Tony. “And you? Was it after you joined NCIS?”

“When you headslapped me for the first time, by the HR department,” Tony smiles at the memory, “I think that was when it hit home that I wanted you. But I’d started liking you more and more while we were working together in Baltimore.”

“So you like the head slaps?”

“Turns me on, every single time,” Tony tells him. “So you can’t stop doing that to me now.” They pause and smile at each other, amazed at how the conversation is going so far. Tony takes a deep breath. “Don’t freak out, OK. But I’ve been in love with you for a long time. Those times when you brought me pizza or told me something nice and I told you I loved you, I wasn’t kidding. I do. Love you. And not just as a partner or a mentor or a friend. Like love you, love you. And it’s really OK if you’re not in love with me because I never expected you to ever even consider me in any other way except platonically, so it’s kind of nice that you’re into me. Can’t believe you’d even look at me…”

“You’re in love with me?”

It is Tony’s turn to nod wordlessly.

“For how long?”

“Since about the time Kate joined the team. Having her on the team made me see how I loved her but as a teammate, and that how I loved you was very, very different.”

“So definitely not a pity fuck, or a one night stand then.”

Tony blushed. “No, but I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything because you know, I don’t want you to do anything or have anything with me that makes you uncomfortable or whatever. I know there’s a difference between being attracted to someone and the big L word. I do have to tell you, Jethro, I can’t have just a sexual relationship with you, OK? I'm not your fuck buddy. I’m in love with you. If you’re not in the same place which I suspect you aren’t because seriously why would you be? You’re Gibbs. You’re a Marine. And I’m well…yeah, I’m me. And if you’re not in the same place, I’d rather we back away now and go back to being DiNozzo and Gibbs, and remain friends, no hard feelings, keeping the status quo. As of yesterday’s status quo, at least. You might have to lay off the head slaps for a couple of months until I’m back in control and have pushed it all back in the box. OK?”

“I love you too.”

“What?!”

“I do. I love you. I have for years now.”

“Years?”

“Years. When you were dying from the plague, I knew I couldn’t lose you because I loved you.”

“You love me?”

“I love you, Tony.”

“Oh.” After a brief pause, Tony continues. “So, not a pity fuck or a one night stand then either?”

Gibbs shakes his head. “Forever, if you’ll have me.”

The smile of wonder on Tony’s face is heartbreakingly beautiful and one Gibbs has never seen before. “You want me forever?” he says disbelievingly.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Nobody has ever wanted me forever.”

Gibbs suppresses his rage at all the people who have hurt Tony, starting with his parents. “I do,” he tells him.

“Forever sounds good,” Tony’s beautiful smile widens, his dancing eyes sparkling with emotion. “I can’t really think of things to talk about right now even though I know we should talk more.”

Gibbs smiles and straddles Tony’s lap. “Can we make out now?”

“Yes Jethro, I’d like that please,” tilting his head up and giving Gibbs open access to his mouth. Gibbs shivers again at the soft caress of Tony’s voice calling him Jethro instead of the customary Gibbs or Boss. He raises a hand to Tony’s face and touches it lightly, running his fingers over his eyebrows, eyes, cheeks, nose, strong jaw and ending up on his lips, gently fingering the cut from the other day and hating the person who inflicted this injury on his handsome face. Tony’s eyes are closed as he loses himself in the sensations of the touch. There is a long pause as Gibbs rubs his calloused thumb gently on Tony’s lips, as Gibbs is content to look down at this familiar face and breathe in his heady scent.

“Open your eyes, Tony,” he whispers huskily, “let me see your beautiful eyes.”

Tony opens his eyes and quirks a questioning eyebrow, “Jethro?”

Gibbs shivers again at the sound of his name.

Tony smiles knowingly. “You like it when I say your name, Jethro?”

Gibbs nods and hums his reply, making Tony smile even wider. Gibbs cannot stop the smile on his own face, nor does he want to, as he leans down and claims the soft lips, keeping one hand on the younger man's face and the other tangled in his hair. When he breaks off the kiss, Tony’s whimper of protest makes his already hardened cock twitch and jump. Tony opens his eyes, pupils blown, and smiles.

“You have beautiful eyes, Tony,” Gibbs tells him, and to his delight Tony blushes and grins with embarrassment, shying his eyes away. It is surprising that a simple compliment can evoke that reaction of the handsome man. Gibbs cups his face, waiting until Tony’s eyes, twin emerald brilliance, are back on his face. “You do. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“You just did, Jethro,” Tony replies shyly. “You’re the only one who matters.”

They smile quietly to each other. Gibbs leans down and begins kissing, nibbling, nipping, and biting Tony’s neck, loving the delicious gasps and moans that he coaxes from him. He nips and sucks hard, knowing that he might leave marks, but he doesn’t care because the strangled groans coming from Tony is intoxicating.

Tony’s hands are on Gibbs’ ass, under his jeans and boxers, pulling him close and grinding their erections together, causing them both to moan at the friction.

“Wait,” Tony moans, “wait Jethro. What about work? And Rule 12? What about…” Jethro silences him with a kiss and a fierce growl. Gibbs moans when Tony’s lips move along his jawline to his ear, leaving a searing trace of hot, wet, kisses until he sucks on his ear and moves down to taste his neck, biting and sucking as he moves downwards to his clavicle. Tony grins when Gibbs arches his back, giving him better access to his neck. He pulls the older man’s head back into a hungry open-mouthed kiss and moans when Gibbs starts pulling his hoodie and shirt up.

They break apart while Gibbs yanks Tony’s hoodie and t-shirt off and throws it aside. They are both breathless and panting. Tony sees that look in Gibbs’ eyes, looking at him as if he is a meal to be devoured, and he thinks that he has seen this look before but usually before Gibbs yells at him for something or gives him a punishing head slap, sometimes for reasons he does not even understand. He stops the older man from pouncing on him again.

“Wait, Jethro. I asked you about Rule 12 and work?” he pants holding Gibbs’ shoulders away from him.

Gibbs forces himself to calm down – Tony’s kiss swollen lips and heavy-lidded bedroom eyes and their erections rubbing together is setting him on fire and he doesn’t really comprehend what Tony is saying. “What?” he finally chokes out. His hands keep moving, caressing the golden skin that has finally been bared for him.

Tony cannot believe that Gibbs is so far gone just from kissing him and smiles, seeing the naked desire in his icy blue gaze. “Jethro,” he moans when Gibbs begins toying with his nipples and is forced to take hold of both of Gibbs’ hands, bringing them to his lips for a kiss. “Wait. One more question. Then maybe we can move to the bedroom.”

Gibbs tears his eyes away from Tony’s lips, still breathing hard, and grinds himself against Tony’s arousal, drawing a groan from the younger man.

“What’s the question?” he finally asks, some semblance of sanity returning. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Tony laughs, the sound making Gibbs grind into him impatiently. “OK, OK. Question is, rule 12? Work?”

Gibbs sighs. “Knew that one would come back to bite me in the ass.”

“I want to bite your ass,” Tony tells him, and drops soft kisses and nips on the hands that are still clasped in his.

“I don’t see why anything has to change at work. We can still work together, can’t we? Could you separate the work us and the – this – us, whatever this ends up being?” Gibbs eyes are serious. “I mean, I’ve been in love with you all this time and you didn’t know it, did you?”

Tony shakes his head. “No, I didn’t know. Did you know how I felt about you?”

“Nope. Not a clue.”

Tony smiles, “so we can just be our usual at work and then come home and fuck each other stupid?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“And Rule 12?”

“Way I see it, we’ve been breaking Rule 12 all these years anyway, you with your 15-year committed relationship to me, and vice versa. So if we finally get some hot sex out of it, I say we go with Rule 5 instead.”

Tony silently stares into Gibbs’ face, his own giving nothing away. Finally he breaks into a breathtaking smile, drops an open mouthed kiss on the older man’s palm, and kisses his way to his fingertips before sucking in a finger, drawing an agonized moan. “OK,” he agrees speaking around the finger in his mouth.

Gibbs stands up, pulling Tony up impatiently. “Didn’t you promise me some bedroom time now?” Tony’s laughter as he is dragged up the stairs makes the house seem full of life again, Gibbs thinks.

Tony heads to the guest bedroom, knowing that the master bedroom is Shannon’s and has always been Shannon’s – his research has shown that Gibbs never slept with his ex-wives in the master bedroom – so he is surprised when Gibbs drags him to the master bedroom. Gibbs himself has only very recently started sleeping in the master bedroom himself.

Tony stops short, surprised, his eyes wide and questioning. Gibbs pulls him into a hungry open-mouthed kiss and without breaking the kiss, nudges his door open and guides Tony into the room, his hands constantly caressing and touching the hard body – so unlike a woman’s but yet making his cock so unbelievably hard. He gently pushes Tony down onto his bed – and he can almost hear Shannon telling him that this is right and this is good. Tony will not try to make him forget nor will he supplant her in his heart, but that his heart has expanded and Tony belongs in it as well.

Impatiently he pulls his sweatshirt off and throws it onto the floor. Tony is helping by sitting up and unbuckling Gibbs’ belt buckle – knowing exactly how to deal with the belt without injuring himself on the knife concealed there since he has a similar set up on his own belt (Rule 9) – and undoes the jeans, pulling them and his boxers down and freeing his erect cock. Tony stares at Gibbs’ beautiful cock, bobbing for him, admiring the clean lines while Gibbs kicks the rest of his clothes off. Before he can move, Tony’s hands are on his hips, holding him still, his eyes focused on the very erect member.

Gibbs can read the naked lust in Tony’s eyes and cannot believe that that look is for him. Tony gently traces his index finger on the vein, moving from the base to the head of his cock, which starts leaking. The younger man brings his face closer and breathes out slowly, his hot breath making the cock bob and Gibbs groan. Tony fingers the slit and brings his mouth close, and licks the salty liquid, and before Gibbs knows it, has taken the whole cock into his mouth. His hot, wet, amazing mouth is around him. He swallows him down, tongue swirling, teeth grazing the cockhead lightly as he pulls away. Gibbs clutches Tony’s hair, his hips thrusting into that mouth of his, moaning and gasping. Tony looks up at Gibbs, and they stare into each other’s eyes, green emeralds to blue sapphires, as Tony proceeds to give the older man the most thorough and amazing blow job he has ever received. He knows just when to hollow out his cheeks and take the cock in all the way to the base (Does he not have any gag reflex? Gibbs wonders in amazement), when to pull back and suck and lick and nip. He licks down the bottom length of the cock and sucks in one of his balls, paying loving attention to it before turning his tongue and mouth to the other while his hand begins stroking the rock hard cock. He draws deep agonized groans from Gibbs.

He rubs the man's balls in one hand and licks the sensitive skin behind it, and Gibbs shouts at that sensation. His other hand keeps stroking, rubbing, twisting the older man’s cock and Gibbs begins moaning uncontrollably, begging for release. Begging for his mouth again. Begging Tony to finish him.

Smiling, he takes the weeping cock into his mouth and begins sucking hard on the cockhead before swallowing him down and humming around it. The vibration from the hum drives Gibbs crazy, and his hands are scrabbling in Tony’s hair and on his shoulders, and he cannot believe the curses and epithets and promises and entreaties that are coming out of his own mouth as Tony brings him closer and closer. Tony bobs in and out, feeling the balls draw in and the desperate pleas from Gibbs – he is close. He takes him in deep, all the way to the base.

“Fuck Tony, I’m gonna…cum…oh fuck Tonyyy...” Gibbs tries to draw away but Tony takes him deep and when Gibbs comes, he explodes down Tony’s throat roaring his name. Tony swallows his load and continues to milk his cock until his knees buckle. Tony pulls him onto the bed and curls around him, kissing his neck and gently playing with his nipples until Gibbs comes down off his high, and his pulse and breathing have slowed somewhat.

“Oh my god,” Gibbs tells him, kissing his lips, tasting himself on Tony’s lips and finding that oddly arousing. “That was…” he moans appreciatively.

Tony laughs, that wide open sound making Gibbs smile and pull him close.

“That was just from your mouth and hands on me,” Gibbs tells him in wonder. Tony shrugs modestly, grinning and kissing Gibbs’ neck. Before he knows it, he finds himself on his back with the older man on top of him, kissing him hungrily, deeply, his hands undoing Tony’s belt and jeans and pulling his pants off of him. Tony has gone commando which makes Gibbs growl in satisfaction.

He proceeds to torture Tony by slowly moving his lips, tongue and fingers all over his body, kissing, licking, biting, sucking, tasting every bit of skin he can reach. He spends time sucking, biting, and licking first one nipple, then kisses his way to the other, then slowly moves down, following the happy trail but skirting around Tony’s cock despite his whimpers, kissing and licking down his hips and moving to lave and suck at his inner thighs as Tony moans and gasps and whimpers.

“You smell incredible,” Gibbs tells him huskily, “you always do. Even back in the Baltimore days.” Gibbs breathes deeply the scent of Tony’s groin, watching as his cock, hard and straining practically slaps up to his stomach. “I always thought that, and thought how could I think that my best friend smells good?” he draws his fingernails up Tony’s inner thighs, loving the mewls and growls and moans and groans and gasps that he, Gibbs, is drawing from Tony. His beautiful leonine Tony. Attainable. His. Unbelievable.

“Please, please…please, I need you please,” the tables have been turned and Tony is now the one begging for Gibbs to touch his cock, mindlessly begging. Gibbs finds his sated cock half-hardening when Tony begins begging in Italian, whispering what sounds like filthy words and love words as he finally strokes Tony’s cock. Tony arches almost off the bed when Gibbs takes him in his mouth, and begins giving his first blow job ever. He finds that it’s surprisingly easy, given that Tony is so responsive and instructive, telling him what to do, where to lick, when to suck. He deep throats Tony’s shaft and Tony thrusts into his mouth, unable to stop himself, cursing and moaning in pleasure. He lets Tony pop out of his mouth and begins pumping him hard, twisting his swollen cockhead, wanting to watch the beautiful man writhe in pleasure. 

“Please, I’m so close.. so..close…please..fuck…don’t stop…yes…” Tony’s moaned words are incredibly erotic. Gibbs sucks hard on Tony’s cockhead while pumping the saliva-wet shaft with his hand, keeping his eyes on Tony’s face.

“Oh god oh god oh yes yes yes oh god fuck that’s I’m gonna I’m gonna yes ohhhh fuck yeah yeah there fuck…” Gibbs watches as Tony’s eyes roll back in his head and his entire body stiffens, (he wonders if Tony’s toes are curled and loves that he will be able to try to watch for this the next time he makes this beautiful man come) and suddenly Tony is spurting hot and salty cum into his mouth, calling out his name. He swallows a little but he has instinctively ducked away from it. Licking his lips, he thinks that Tony actually tastes pretty good and begins sucking the softening cock, milking it of semen, and Tony growls his pleasure, panting and cursing.

Finally Tony pulls him up and kisses him fiercely before settling down bonelessly on his back, breathing hard, heart pounding. Gibbs watches his racing pulse in the hollow at the base of his throat, and leans down to kiss that precious hollow. When Tony is able to, he kisses Gibbs thoroughly, tasting himself in the older man’s mouth, before putting his head down, holding Gibbs against him, sighing luxuriously, eyes closing, ready to sleep.

“Was that satisfactory?” Gibbs asks him.

He cracks his eyes open and sees that Gibbs blue eyes are amused and a little worried. “Satisfactory?” he grins.

“I was a little worried cause I haven’t – well that was my first…” Gibbs breaks off and smiles when Tony smiles at him, an unguarded, beautiful love-filled smile.

“That was amazing,” Tony tells him, kissing him and stroking his body. “You’re a natural.”

“You have a really filthy potty mouth.”

“I do, do I?” Tony says around a yawn.

“Fuck yeah.”

Tony’s laugh rumbles in his chest and Gibbs laughs with him. “I love it when I make you laugh,” Tony tells him sleepily as he curls his body around Gibbs. “You should laugh more.”

“I’m sure I will now,” Gibbs pulls the covers out from under their bodies and covers them, scooting Tony up to the pillows.

“I can’t keep my eyes open, sorry,” Tony’s voice is soft and has that sleepy loopy sound that usually comes with painkillers. Apparently that is also his post-coital haze voice. “Want me to move to the guest room?” he yawns again.

“Stay with me,” Gibbs tells him, and Tony turns on his side, plastering himself against Gibbs’ body, his head on his chest, one last wet kiss, one arm thrown around his body and one leg in between his with a quiet sigh.

“Love you Jethro,” he mumbles as he falls into oblivion.

“Love you Tony,” Gibbs whispers softly, kissing the top of his head and closing his eyes, welcoming sleep.

In the middle of the night, Gibbs is awakened when Tony begins thrashing in the bed, whimpering. He is facing away from Gibbs. The older man scooches close and wraps his body around the man, whispering soothing words, caressing him and kissing the back of his neck, rubbing his arm and his side and his flank.

Instead of a steady crescendo culminating in bloodcurdling wake up screams, Tony jerks awake, whimpering. He smells Gibbs’ scent, feels the strong arms and body holding him close, holding him as if he were precious, and that sexy voice whispering words of love and comfort and he calms down.

“Shhhh love, you’re ok. I’ve gotcha, you’re safe. No one will hurt you now, I gotcha now,” Gibbs presses soft kisses on the back of Tony’s neck. He feels Tony slowly turn into his arms, into his embrace, feels wetness drip down his arm from Tony’s hot silent tears. He kisses the tears away and soothes him, crooning words of safety and love until Tony cries himself to sleep, occasionally sobbing and hiccupping quietly while he sleeps. Gibbs is sadly disturbed that Tony’s weeping was done in absolute silence – only children who know that nobody will come when they cry weep silent tears. And Tony, his poor Tony, is one of those children. He wants to strangle Senior and pull out his fingernails for the damage that he has done to his son, and yet Tony’s spirit has not been crushed and he is still one of the brightest burning flames in the world.

Gibbs runs his hands over Tony's hard, toned, muscled body, soothing him into a more relaxed sleep before he closes his eyes and goes back to sleep. Tomorrow will be another day.


	5. Chapter 5

When Gibbs opens his eyes, sunlight is streaming through the windows – he has forgotten to close the blinds. Tony’s naked body is still plastered against him, although he has moved down below Gibbs’ armpit, his head snugly burrowed to Gibbs’ side, one arm pillowed under his head, one arm around Gibbs’ stomach, one leg thrown over both of Gibbs’ legs trapping him. Tony’s hot breaths on his side are incredibly arousing and Gibbs’ cock hardens.

He pets Tony’s head, and loves how even in sleep Tony purrs and leans into his touch. His sleepy oversized kitten. He feels like he should be more shocked about the revelation that Tony is in love with him, and the whole sex with a man thing. But he isn’t. He’s happy. He’s exactly where he wants to be with the person he wants to be with. He smiles and runs his fingers through Tony’s hair, and revels in the sound of Tony’s purrs, and he moans when Tony kisses his side, a sleepy wet kiss that both tickles and arouses him.

Tony begins to move, slowly waking up, and Gibbs leans up on his elbow, watching as the long lashes begin to flutter and those amazing green eyes are looking up at him through long-lashed, sleep-heavy lids. His eyes begin with sleepy confusion, then move into happy remembrance and he smiles up at Gibbs – another new smile for Gibbs, one openly filled with love and satisfaction and warmth.

“Good morning,” Gibb tells him, smiling back at him, hoping that his own conveys the same feelings. It must have because Tony is positively beaming with love in response.

“Morning,” he replies. He kisses his way up Gibbs’ body, working his way up Gibbs’ neck, finding and sucking on each sensitive spot until he reaches Gibbs’ lips, and they share a slow, hot, deep, exploratory kiss – tongues exploring each other’s mouths.

Gibbs takes Tony’s hand and places it on his erection. Tony moans into his mouth and regretfully pulls away.

“I have to hit the head, badly,” he smiles apologetically. “And I’m itchy – didn’t wipe off last night,” he scratches at the dried cum on his stomach. “Come shower with me?”

Gibbs whimpers in protest when Tony takes his hand away after a few strokes, and with a frustrated growl follows him into the bathroom.

While Tony relieves his bladder, Gibbs retrieves Tony’s toothbrush and toiletries from the guest bathroom and brings it into his bathroom and they brush their teeth companionably, comfortable in their own skins. Tony’s fingers scratch at his body absently while they watch each other in the mirror and smile around their toothbrushes. Gibbs starts the shower and lets the water warm up before they both get in.

He gives Tony a marine shower – washing Tony’s hair and massaging his scalp, and soaping his entire body and rubbing a washcloth over it, ensuring that his purring kitten is clean in under 5 minutes. Afterwards, he pays special attention to the aforementioned itchy parts, now taking his sweet time stroking, kissing, licking, sucking – to ensure the cleanliness of course – of Tony’s cock and balls. He doesn’t use a washcloth for this part. Tony has to grab the base of his engorged cock to stop himself from coming, and pulls Gibbs up for a kiss.

He takes his time, washing Gibbs – his clever fingers massaging shampoo into Gibbs’ hair and scalp, making him moan with pleasure. Then he washes Gibbs’ body, following the washcloth with his hands, lips, tongue and teeth. He brings Gibbs’ almost to the edge but then he turns the water off and begins toweling Gibbs dry.

This time Gibbs growls with frustration. Tony silences him with a long kiss and tweaks and twists his cock before quickly drying himself as well as Gibbs and he pulls the older man out of the shower and back to bed.

“Trust me?” he asks prettily and Gibbs cannot resist and nods, smiling back. Tony looks like he is about to unwrap the best Christmas gift ever. “One sec, I’ll be right back,” he kisses Gibbs hard on the lips before he disappears (naked). He returns in a flash, placing something on the bed next to Gibbs. He gets on the bed and as he kisses Gibbs, he covers Gibbs’ body with his, settling himself in between Gibbs’ legs, and he continues to kiss him until they are both breathless. Gibbs finds that he has somehow curled his legs around Tony and that their cocks are rubbing together deliciously.

Tony kisses a hot trail down Gibbs’ neck, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive spot at the base of Gibbs’ neck, and slowly moves downwards. He spends some time kissing and sucking on Gibbs’ nipples, teasing them into hard pebbles, before moving further down. He maneuvers Gibbs feet so his legs are wide open, knees up.

He turns his talented mouth to Gibbs’ dripping cock, swallowing it deep into the back of his throat again. While Gibbs is gasping and writhing under him, he flips open the small bottle next to him and squirts lubricant onto his fingers, and carefully swipes a finger across Gibbs’ tight hole. Gibbs arches his back and gasps.

Tony strokes Gibbs’ hard cock and looks into his eyes, seeing the worry in them. “Trust me,” he says again softly, “I won’t do anything you don’t want to do, but let me do this for you. You’ll be flying, I promise. I got your six. Literally,” he grins wickedly.

Gibbs moans his assent and Tony flashes him a quick grin and goes back to work. He keeps pumping Gibbs’ cock and sucks on a ball while his finger begins playing with the tightly clenched hole. He spreads lube all around, circling his finger, carefully softening and loosening the skin. He massages more lube around the puckered hole and begins deep throating Gibbs’ cock. Hearing Gibbs’ moans is making him painfully hard but he resists the urge to stroke himself, keeping the focus on the older man. Finally he eases one lubed finger in while he sucks on the older man’s cockhead and Gibbs moans, clenching his finger tight.

Tony keeps his finger moving and works a second finger in when Gibbs loosens a little. He scissors his fingers and feels around until his finger brushes against Gibbs’ prostate.

Gibbs arches off the bed, half screaming in pleasure.

“There it is,” Tony smiles. He continues to bob up and down Gibbs’ cock, taking him deep, pulling out, sucking and grazing his teeth lightly on the head, and he brushes Gibbs’ prostate in time to his mouth’s movements.

Gibbs feels himself spiraling out of control, feeling the unbelievable pleasure of Tony’s fingers on his prostate. Both hands are clutching at the bedclothes, and he is gasping Tony’s name and begging him for he knew not what. Finally, finally while Tony’s fingers keep brushing his sweet spot, he thrusts himself deep into Tony’s hot, wet mouth a few times and screams Tony’s name as he experiences the most intense orgasm he’s ever had, ejaculating deep in Tony’s throat. He thinks he sees stars – he might have blacked out. The next thing he knows, as he is coming back to his senses is that Tony is sucking on his neck and stroking himself, breathing harshly. The older man takes over, pumping Tony’s lubricated cock, feeling how close Tony is. He twists Tony’s cockhead at the end of every stroke and Tony begins thrusting into his hand and moaning obscene sweet nothings. The younger man’s hands are on Gibbs’ shoulders, fingers digging in almost painfully. Gibbs places his forehead on Tony’s, watching as the beautiful man unravels underneath him.

“Come for me, Tony,” Gibbs orders him softly, and, ever obedient, Tony lets go with a shout, spurting over Gibbs' fingers. Gibbs continues to milk him of every bit, and drops tender kisses on his forehead, temple, cheeks, jaw and lips while he comes down off his high.

When Tony can breathe normally again, he curls himself around Gibbs, smiling and humming in satisfaction, eyes closed, breathing in the scent of Gibbs.

“That was – I’ve never experienced anything like that,” Gibbs tells him, running his fingers through Tony’s hair, loving the feline purr in response. “Maybe you could fuck me later? I could bottom? Isn’t that the right term?”

Tony lifts his head and opens his eyes, smiling contentedly. “I was hoping you’d say that. It will help give you some experience and then you can fuck me.”

“Do you have a preference? I mean in general – top or bottom?”

“I like both, depends on my mood. But I’m glad you liked that. I loved watching you experience that – that was so erotic.”

They kiss tenderly.

“Don’t we have to go to work today, Jethro?” Tony asks. “Kinda late now.”

“Nah. You’re supposed to stay home while we investigate. I pulled babysitting duty. Fornell wants a protective detail on you.”

Tony grins like a Cheshire cat. “I feel very protected, Jethro,” he whispers, kissing Gibbs’ neck, seeking out the sensitive spot underneath his ear.

Gibbs’ phone chirps and he grabs it. Mischievously, Tony continues to kiss, suck and lick his way down.

“Yeah, Gibbs,” Gibbs gives his customary greeting, intending to slap Tony’s head away but instead holding it close and biting his lips as he sucks on a nipple. “Be there in an hour, McGee,” he grunts, hanging up before he moans breathlessly. “You are an evil, evil man,” he gasps at Tony who only grins wickedly, twisting the nipple and eliciting another groan.

“Time to get up, take another shower and go to work, huh?” Tony grins, regretfully. He knows better than to ask what new developments have arisen in his case. “Do I get to come in too? Or am I still confined to the house?”

“You better come with me, Tony. I don’t want you out of my sight until this thing is over,” Gibbs tells him.

Sighing, Tony gets out of bed and holds his hand out to help Gibbs up. The older man decides to get the coffee started while Tony shaves and climbs in the shower to wash off. He is toweling himself dry when Gibbs returns and takes his turn in the shower.

They dress, grab their gear and their coffees to go, and hand in hand, head out to the car.

When the elevator dings, the two men stride into the bullpen the way they usually do, Tony a half step behind his boss. His stylish and expensive sunglasses are perched low on his nose and he grins easily at his teammates as he stows his backpack behind his desk and drops his gun and badge in the drawer. Pushing his sunglasses up on top of his head, he greets his teammates.

McGee and Bishop are relieved to see that Tony seems to be fairly normal today. But they know he isn’t really when he clears his throat and asks casually, “So, any interesting mail today?”

McGee looks to Gibbs who nods. McGee looks concerned and a little upset, but he finally looks at Tony who is leaning against his desk, feet crossed, looking as if he hasn’t a care in the world, but knowing that that is just one of Tony’s masks. He sighs and answer, “Yep. We intercepted it in the mail room and took it straight to Abby.”

“What was it today?”

McGee’s eyes flash to Gibbs again, who nods imperceptibly giving him permission. “Another note, and a small pendant, kind of like a charm I guess. Like from a charm bracelet.”

Tony tries hard not to react but he feels blood draining from his face and his heartrate rising. Cursing his weakness, he bites his lips to stop them from trembling and tells his stomach to settle down. “Was it a silver piano?” he chokes out the question.

“Yeah, Tony.”

Tony’s breaths are coming in shallow pants and he closes his eyes and scrubs his hands over his face, swallowing painfully. Before he knows it, both Gibbs and McGee are by his side.

“You need to throw up?” Gibbs asks him, and he nods tightly. They efficiently whisk him to the men’s room and he proceeds to heave, throwing up mostly liquids and bile since they didn’t get a chance to have breakfast. Gibbs rubs his back and speaks to him soothingly. When he’s done he accepts the damp paper towels that McGee hands him, nodding gratefully as he regains control of himself. He rinses his mouth, splashes water on his face, and puts his head under the tap getting his hair wet and Gibbs hands him his handkerchief which he uses to dry off. His hair is mussed and tousled after this and he gives it a half-hearted effort to tame some of the craziness before giving up.

McGee stands guard at the door, growling fiercely at anyone trying to enter the men’s room, sending them to the facilities on the next floor, and Gibbs is massaging the back of Tony’s neck. He pulls Tony into his arms for a quick hug and brushes a fleeting kiss to his temple, and finally when Tony is ready, he stares into Tony’s eyes until he is satisfied, before the three men leave the restroom, Tony automatically smoothing his clothes and refusing to meet anybody’s eyes while they troop to the elevator and press the button. Without any exchange of words, all three have decided to go down to Abby’s to look at the new mail.

“DiNozzo, you up to this?” Gibbs asks him in the elevator.

Tony swallows with difficulty, and nods, “Yes, Boss. I need to see it.”

They walk into Abby’s lab and her music seems to pulse with anger, giving Tony a headache. Gibbs taps Abby’s shoulder to get her attention and she turns and hugs him. McGee goes to turn the music down and Abby spots Tony and rushes to envelop him in a long tight hug, and Tony holds her and leans his head down on hers with a sigh.

“You’re here to see today’s…?”

Tony nods, pursing his lips, drawing himself to his full height and squaring his shoulders. He schools his features into a blank expression as Abby pulls the evidence bags and places them on her table. When he walks up to the table next to her, she slips her arm around his waist and he places his arm around her shoulder.

Gibbs stands on Tony’s other side and McGee thinks he must be imagining things when he sees Tony’s and Gibbs’ fingers brushing each other gently and not accidentally. Then Tony’s eyes are on the little grand piano charm that he hasn’t seen in over thirty years, but that he’d worn on a chain around his neck for almost 4 years – it had been how Garrett marked him. That his body belonged to the man. That he was Garrett’s property.

He growls deep in his throat. Anger rising to the surface again. Abby tightens her hold on him and McGee sees that this time Gibbs does reach for Tony’s hand and they interlace fingers, holding on tightly. It is an innocent gesture of support, but for some reason it really strikes McGee as something different and new. Gibbs always offered comfort and support to his team, but usually a squeezed shoulder, a meaningful stare, a nod, a quirk of the mouth, or in times of dire need, he does dispense with hugs but usually only to the girls. McGee wonders, if it had been him that had this horrible thing happen to him, would Gibbs be holding his hand? And he thinks, no, probably not, probably only Tony would get this handholding and his keen mind begins wondering why this would be so. But he pushes the thought away for now as Tony lets go of Gibbs’ hand and reaches for the baggie with the new note.

Tony’s fingers tremble as he slides the bag closer to him with one finger, as if he doesn’t want to touch it even through the evidence bag. It is a longer note today, penned in the same disgustingly familiar handwriting.

_Ciao Anthony bello,_  
_Do you remember how much I loved it when you performed for me? My heart stopped when I saw you on the street the other day. So strong. So tall. So handsome. So brave. So beautiful. I knew it was you right away.You were always the one, caro mio. Nobody else measured up to you after you were sent away. I think about you all the time._  
_I still miss you every day. Do you miss me? Innamorato mio, my beautiful Anthony._  
_Sempre,_  
_G_

Tony begins breathing hard, and closes his eyes, fists clenched. A muscle in his jaw begins twitching as he grits his teeth. This was harder than he had expected. He doesn’t realize that he is growling under his breath with every panted exhale and that he looks as if he is about to explode with rage again.

“Fornell has seen this?” he spits out.

“Yeah, he was here when we intercepted the mail,” McGee answers quietly.

“I need some air,” Tony’s voice is clipped. Looking around Abby’s lab, he sees far too many convenient and expensive things that he can throw. He needs to leave, quickly. He gently disengages from Abby and strides out, fury barely contained.

“Go, Gibbs, go take care of our boy,” Abby shoos him as Gibbs leaves the lab. Abby and McGee look at each other helplessly.

“I didn’t get around to telling them that I got clear prints off the charm and matched it as well as the partials to Senator Mulroney,” Abby says, her normally enthusiastic voice and large personality diminished.

McGee hugs her. “Tony’s not supposed to be investigating this anyway,” he says comfortingly. “I already updated Gibbs on the phone earlier.”

Abby nods and sighs. “Poor Tony, McGee. Did you hear him? He sounded like a wounded animal. I don’t think I’ll be able to get that sound out of my head.”

McGee tightens his arms around the Goth. “If it’s any consolation, I thought he sounded like a wounded animal who’s about to go ballistic. He’s not taking this lying down, Abby. Tony’s strong. He’ll get through this. We won’t let him down, Abs.”

Abby’s eyes tear up. “Tony is strong, McGee. I don’t think any of us had any idea how strong. But you’re right – he’s not alone anymore. He’s got us and we’re going to take this sick fuck down.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gibbs catches up to Tony as he leaves the building. His eyes are spitting green flames and his strides are strong and forceful. His fists are still clenched and the muscle is still twitching in his jaw.

“You need the gym?” Gibbs asks him. “We could spar.”

“I’m not in control – someone will get hurt if we spar.”

“You need to work this off.”

“I’ll just go for a run.”

“On the treadmill. You’re not going off by yourself when you’re like this.”

“I just want to rip his head off, Gibbs. I want to hurt him,” Tony’s voice is menacing. “I don’t want to get any more reminders of that time in my life, and I want to stop him from hurting anybody else. I want to fucking kill that son of a bitch.”

Gibbs steers him back into the building – neither of them have their creds or sidearms and he wants Tony off the streets as quickly as possible – and deposits him in the NCIS gym. Tony climbs into his gym clothes, straps his iPod on his arm, stuffs earbuds in his ears and starts running at a punishing speed on a treadmill, ignoring the pain in his knee. Gibbs leaves only after he sees Tony zone out, focusing on pushing his body. He doesn’t think Tony should be doing this on an empty stomach but he knows from experience when the younger man is this upset, he won’t be able to keep any food down.

He drops by Abby’s lab to give her a hug and kiss, catch up with her, and asks her to monitor the security feed at the gym and let him know when Tony is done. Then he heads up to meet with Vance and Fornell.

“Gibbs. I assume DiNozzo has seen today’s mail?” Fornell asks when he enters the Director’s office without knocking, as usual.

Gibbs nods.

“How did he take it?” Vance sounds concerned.

Gibbs shrugs. “Mad as hell. Can’t be left alone now.” Both Vance and Fornell understand that Tony is now a danger both to himself and to Senator Mulroney.

“He say anything about what the piano is all about?”

Gibbs shakes his head. “Nope. Too busy stopping himself from destroying NCIS property and Abby’s lab.”

“Where’s he now?”

“At the gym. Running like a bat out of hell. Taking it out on himself, as usual. He’ll be ready to talk after.”

“Why would that asshole send him a piano charm?” Fornell wonders.

“DiNozzo plays piano. Has done since he was a kid,” Gibbs mutters.

“He any good?”

Gibbs shrugs. Vance answers saving him the trouble of coming up with a response. “I know he has a piano but that’s all I know.”

“Tell me you’re close to bringing him in, Fornell,” Gibbs’ anger at the situation leaks out.

“We’re getting there. I’ll let McGee and Bishop brief you.”

Gibbs returns to the bullpen for a sit-rep and they get back to work for a while. Finally Abby calls Gibbs to let him know that Tony has finally gotten off the treadmill after running hard for an hour. Tony drags himself back to his desk fifteen minutes later hair damp from the shower, trying his best not to look as drained as he feels.

“Fornell wants a word,” Gibbs tells him.

Tony suppresses a sigh and nods. Gibbs leads the way up to Vance’s office with Tony following and McGee and Bishop flanking him protectively. The people on the bullpen floor, despite all the wild speculation, can clearly see that the MCRT is on a tear, with Gibbs leading the charge, DiNozzo following loyally, and McGee and Bishop clearly ready to drop anyone who comes near them. Those who have known Gibbs longest can see that Gibbs is in full-on protective mode, and given the way McGee and Bishop have been acting and DiNozzo’s behavior and subsequent absence from the office, they estimate that DiNozzo is in trouble and that the MCRT have now closed ranks against whatever shared enemy might be threatening. It is just how Gibbs’ team is.

Gibbs strides into Vance’s office without knocking and Tony smiles apologetically to Cynthia before following his team lead. They find that Abby, Palmer and Ducky are waiting with Vance and Fornell.

Tony smiles at everyone, looking uncomfortable before being ushered into a chair by the small conference room table again. Today, McGee and Bishop sit on either side of Tony and Gibbs stands behind him, looming dangerously. Vance marvels at the team dynamics – on a normal day, the team banters and squabbles and fights until Gibbs smacks them into submission, all the while maintaining their impressive solve rates. Today they have closed ranks and he pities the idiot who would dare even look at DiNozzo sideways or get his coffee order wrong, as they will get their heads bitten off by very angry and protective teammates.

Vance tries not to do it but he cannot help but scrutinize DiNozzo, who is difficult to read on most days. Today he looks tired but otherwise there is no hint of any emotional turmoil. He is wearing a dark suit with an open-collared dress shirt with no tie. His hair is wet and spiky from a shower but he has not bothered to style it. He seems calm, the run seems to have helped.

“Thanks for coming in DiNozzo,” Fornell tells him. “I know you’re supposed to be benched.”

Tony grins and shrugs. “Ask your questions, Fornell,” he tells him bluntly.

Fornell nods. Regretfully he pushes the piano charm across the table. “Why did he send you this? What does it mean?”

Tony nods, refusing to touch the bag. “I used to have to play for him – I, uh, dabble with musical instruments – anyway he would make me play just for him. Clothing optional. You get the drift. So he wanted to mark me somehow, make it so people knew I was his property or something. You can’t tattoo a kid or actually you know, put a branding iron to them, without medical professionals frowning and police involvement. So he made me wear this around my neck on a chain. I wore it for almost four years. If I took it off – he bribed my father’s house staff and even the teachers in school would talk to him – he would know it and I would be punished.”

“Punished how? Would he physically assault you?”

Tony shakes his head. “No. He just humiliated me and debased me – in the bedroom. He never laid a finger on me in violence. If you discounted the whole sexual assault thing, really, he was nicer to me and more considerate than my own father ever was. He actually spoke to my teachers and made me do my homework. Can you believe it?” Tony flashes a disbelieving grin. “What a mind fuck.”

“Is this the same charm or is it a copy?”

With undisguised distaste, Tony pulls the bag to him and looks at it closely, flipping it over a few times. “It’s mine. The same charm from back then.”

“How’d he get it back? Did he take it away from you at some point?”

“I mailed it back to him from boarding school,” he says with satisfaction. “And I burned all his letters without ever opening them. Not one. No contact since I was twelve. Getting disowned was the best thing that ever happened to me. No Senior, no Garrett. Freedom.” Tony’s eyes are hard, his mouth a grim line.

“But yet you continue to defend your father and invite him into your life?” McGee cannot help his outburst.

“He may be a dick but he’s still my father, McGee,” Tony’s reproach is gentle.

McGee grunts unhappily.

“I can’t believe he kept this fucking thing all this time,” Tony looks curiously at the charm. “I hated it for so long. It’s weird to see it again.”

“Fingerprints on the charm and partials from the note and photo all match to Mulroney,” Abby reports.

“But this isn’t something you can prosecute him for. At most it’s harassment. It’s not even that, though, is it? Cause he hasn’t made any threats,” Tony says quietly.

“We’re still digging into him. We’ll find something Tony,” McGee says with conviction.

“I know,” Tony agrees simply.

“He says he saw you on the street,” Gibbs growls, “I don’t like that. He could be stalking you.”

“What’s he gonna do? Kidnap me? I’m armed and I’m a trained Federal Agent. I’m way past my sell-by date for pedophiles,” Tony objects.

“I still don’t like it. He could be up to something,” Gibbs is insistent. “Why else start this after all these years.”

“I don’t have a kid for him to molest – no mini-mes to tweak his fantasies. He’s just trying to mess with me. We shouldn’t focus on me, we should focus on him.”

“We are,” Bishop tells him. “In his note when he says ‘Nobody else measured up’ I think it does mean there were other boys after you. McGee and I will find them and he’ll get locked away for a long, long time.”

“What’s with the whole Italian phrases thing?” Vance asks.

“Garrett’s mother was Italian, from Italy. He was fluent. And he liked that I was too,” Tony looks around and rubs his hands on his pants. “So any more fun questions for me, because I’m sick and tired of this subject right now. If I’m not investigating this, I’d rather go sit at my desk and work on something else and at least pretend to be useful?”

“Stay there and don’t go out without one of us,” Gibbs tells him.

Tony rolls his eyes and sighs, “Seriously, Boss? Didn’t we talk about this? Me: big bad Fed with a gun? Me: not easy target?”

“You could still be a target even if not an easy one, DiNozzo,” Gibbs tone brooks no argument. “Stay at your desk and if you have to go anywhere, take McGee or Bishop or me with you.”

Tony twists in his chair to look up at Gibbs, ready to argue, but something in Gibbs’ eyes makes him stand down. He half growls in frustration as he looks away. “Yes, Boss,” eventually came the quiet response.

“Thank you,” Gibbs hand lands on Tony’s head fleetingly, moving away before Tony can react. But the quiet thank you makes everyone including Tony jump. As a rule, Gibbs never thanks anyone, nor does he apologize.

Tony slips away and quietly goes back to his desk. He reaches into his backpack and pulls out the cold case files in there, and starts pawing through them again. He finds himself wishing he was at home so he can have the piano close at hand to help him focus because all the thoughts in his head are threatening to spiral him out of control and quickly. His stomach starts rumbling, reminding him that he is hungry but he waits until his team is back to suggest an early lunch run.

Gibbs fires orders at McGee and Bishop, tells them to call him and keep him posted, then tells Tony to grab his gear – cold case files and all – they would be leaving for the day. Happily Tony stuffs the folders into his backpack (including a few more files from the cabinet to keep himself busy) and his laptop.

“Team dinner again tonight?” McGee asks Gibbs.

Gibbs nods tightly.

“Why don’t you guys come to my place tonight? I’m benched and bored. I’ll cook,” Tony offers.

“Something Italian?” McGee looks hopeful.

Tony laughs. “Whatever you want McGee.”

“Maybe some kind of pasta? Made from scratch?”

Tony glares at him. “Do you even have to ask me that?”

“Nope, of course not. Hey, can Delilah come too? You’ve never cooked for her before.”

“Of course, McBoyfriend. Bring Delilah. Bishop, Jake’s invited too, if he can come. Tell Abby, Ducky and Palmer? I’ll make plenty of food so bring whoever you want. All are welcome.”

Leaving McGee grinning happily at the unexpected work night treat, Tony falls into his customary half step behind Gibbs and as the elevator door closes, the last anyone saw was the huge shit-eating grin on Tony’s face and Gibbs’ answering smile.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gibbs is amazed at Tony’s sunny disposition. He can tell that Tony isn't trying to hide, he is just happy to have something to do and for someone who was such a loner, he did enjoy the company of his teammates. His surrogate family. He gives the younger man a gentle, affectionate headslap while Tony is happily chattering about recipes, movies, movies about food, movies featuring food, and so on and so forth.

Tony yelps and says, “Boss, I told you I liked it when you did that, right?”

“Yep,” and if anyone saw the look that Gibbs gave Tony, one would definitely say that he ran his eye over the younger man’s fine form in a very possessive and admiring manner. One might even say he positively leered at Tony.

The look silences Tony for a minute. “Um, did you just…?”

“Yep,” and the blue eyes look at him very appreciatively one more time.

“Oh,” Tony clears his throat, and blushes furiously, which Gibbs finds terribly endearing.

“For such a player, you sure do blush a lot, Tony,” Gibbs teases him, which makes him turn tomato red.

“Well, sure, I’m easy on the eye and people have said so. Plus I get my way a lot by smiling so I know it’s a good smile. But it’s never been you complimenting me, Jethro. So it throws me for a loop,” Tony stammers. “You have that effect on me. You make me feel like I’m thirteen again and you’re the hot high school seniors who were hitting on me.”

Gibbs laughs. “I’m sure you’ll get un-self-conscious later in bed.”

“Oh most certainly by then if not earlier,” Tony grins back lasciviously.

Gibbs takes Tony to the diner where Gibbs has to use the death-glare on Tony before he manages to eat half of his pancakes. Tony may be upbeat but his appetite is not back to normal yet. Then Tony asks Gibbs to drive him to an obscure street where Gibbs is surprised to find a few Italian shops that looked like they would have been at home in Italy.

“I thought DC didn’t have a Little Italy?”

Tony smiles. “It doesn’t. This is pretty underground, I’d say.”

Gibbs is amazed as Tony is welcomed at each store with hugs and his cheeks kissed by men and women alike. Everybody speaks to him in Italian, which he slips into comfortably. He introduces Gibbs, in English to everyone. Gibbs is then hugged and kissed and welcomed too.

Gibbs watches as Tony proceeds to look at meat and produce and good-naturedly haggles and laughs while he is teased and teases them right back. At one point at the old-fashioned butcher shop, the butcher, a tiny, white-haired septuagenarian, seems to be gesturing to Gibbs as he speaks and making Tony blush furiously as he answers back.

“What was that?” Gibbs whispers to Tony.

“Nothing,” Tony mutters back.

“Nothing? I’m just saying that Tony’s boyfriend is very handsome and that you boys make such a good couple. Bellissimo, both of you,” the old man’s English is heavily accented.

Tony has turned tomato red again. “Signore Morelli, per favore…”

“What? He is not your boyfriend? My grandson, his boyfriend is pretty but yours is much more manly. I like. And such pretty eyes.”

“Signore!” Tony is outraged and embarrassed. Gibbs laughs and places a hand on Tony’s arm.

“Yes, his boyfriend,” Gibbs tells the old man, surprising Tony. “Don’t mind him, he can be shy about love.”

Tony turns shocked eyes to Gibbs. “What?”

“You are. You have trouble expressing yourself to others about things that really matter to you.”

“What!?”

“Shhh, buy your groceries,” Gibbs presses a kiss on Tony’s cheek.

“Aaah,” Signore Morelli says sagely, “is this new?”

“Yes,” Tony says, while at the same time Gibbs says “No.”

They stop and look at each other then look at the butcher behind the counter and Tony says “No,” while Gibbs simultaneously says “Yes.”

Signore Morelli laughs and Gibbs laughs with him while Tony wonders if he will ever stop blushing. In the end it is Gibbs who explains. “We have been friends for a long time, but boyfriends only recently.”

“But you have loved each other all this time?”

“Yes.”

“It’s good, molto bene. Antonio is such a good boy, you make him happy, yes?”

“I will.”

Tony just stares at Gibbs before he breaks into that heartbreaking smile that Gibbs loves so much. The one that seems now to only be for him when he does something that Tony doesn’t expect and it makes him feel like the most important man in the world.

Finally Tony makes all the purchases that he needs from several stores, stuffs the bags in the trunk and drags Gibbs into one last store.

“Dessert,” he declares. “I’m not making cannolis from scratch. That is a friggin’ pain in the ass.”

“You’ve made cannolis from scratch?”

“Our cook growing up was a purist. Everything was made from scratch. Everything. So, yeah, I learned from her how to make the shells and everything. But I’m just going to buy cannolis. Forget making them,” Tony’s hand motions seem even more exaggerated. Gibbs wonders if hanging around all these Italians is bringing out his tendency to talk with his hands.

They walk into the bakery and Tony pulls Gibbs to the array of goodies. Tony picks out a variety of cannolis and some tiramisu. The thirty-something cashier, dark haired, very pretty, is flirting with Tony who flirts right back, comfortably flirting in Italian. Gibbs tries hard not to feel jealous – Tony is a natural flirt, he doesn’t really know how to stop and it’s quite harmless, but when the cashier smiles expectantly at Tony, perhaps hoping to get his number, Gibbs wants to growl at her. The only thing that stops him is that Tony doesn’t respond in any other way, just the harmless and shameless flirting. Gibbs can tell that the woman has barely been registered in that odd DiNozzo brain.

He has just finished paying for his purchases when a quavering voice can be heard coming from the back, calling “Antonio?” and a slew of Italian words.

Tony yells back, smiling, and before long a tiny old lady shuffles out, a huge smile on her face. Tony comes around the counter to stoop down and give “Nonna” a big hug before they begin gabbing away. Finally Tony tells her he has to go but the old lady shuffles to the back, calling for him to wait and returns with a brown paper bag and a small cup.

“Zeppole? Con cioccolato?” Tony’s eyes light up. “Grazie mille, nonna!”

He kisses the old woman on the lips and grins at Gibbs. “You are gonna love these, Jethro!” he calls over the counter. He extricates himself with more hugs and kisses, pressing a crumpled bill into the old lady’s hand despite her arguments, and he pouts prettily until she accepts. He makes Gibbs carry the boxes of cannoli and tiramisu, and they leave the shop with a cheerful wave.

Tony opens the paper bag and inhales deeply. “Oh my,” he sighs, “and still warm,” and shoves the bag under Gibbs’ nose. The aroma of fried dough and cinnamon wafts up and makes the older man's mouth water.

Tony pulls one of the round balls out, dips it thoroughly in the melted chocolate in the cup and deftly pops it into Gibbs’ mouth before he helps himself to one.

“Mmm?” he asks, his mouth full.

“Mmmmmm,” Gibbs says appreciatively. The donut is delicious. Tony dips his finger into the chocolate and sucks on it and Gibbs growls at him.

“What?” he asks, “You want another?”

Gibbs nods, but he growls. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Immediately Tony’s demeanor changes. “What?" he is defensive, "I’m sorry – they know me here and they like to talk to me so it always takes forever.”

“Not that.”

“No? Then what?” Idly Tony dips his finger in the cup again and puts it in his mouth.

“You’re sucking your finger, Tony. You’re distracting me,” and suddenly he realizes that Gibbs is looking at him with naked lust.

Tony freezes, index finger still in his mouth, and blushes. “Oh,” he says lamely.

“Yes. 'Oh',” Gibbs imitates his tone. And before Tony knows it, Gibbs is kissing him, right on the street and he can’t help but kiss him back.

When Gibbs lets him go and demands another zeppole, Tony takes one out of the bag, dips it in the chocolate and when he goes to pop it in Gibbs’ mouth, the older man sucks on his fingertips, causing him to shudder.

On the drive back to Tony’s house, Gibbs casually places one hand on Tony’s thigh. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you, Tony?”

“I guess I don’t,” Tony says self-consciously. “It’s been a while since last night and this morning. I keep thinking you’ll snap out of it.”

“Not gonna snap out of it,” Gibbs tells him. “Love you. Want you. Always have. Always will.”

Tony blushes again. In Gibbs-speak, that is a fourteen-line Shakespearean sonnet. “Love you too, Jethro.” He is quiet for a moment. “I was surprised you said you were my boyfriend.”

“Why? Am I not?”

“Sure. I just didn’t know you’d tell people you were.”

“I would. I did.”

“What about the team? You want to tell them about us?”

“Do you?”

Silence stretches out. “Maybe after the case is closed?” Tony says. “I want you to myself for a while. Is that OK? Or if you don’t want to tell them at all, that’s OK too. As long as you’re happy.”

Gibbs smiles. “We can decide when we’re ready to tell them. I like having you to myself too.” Tony smiles back, happy that they have made this decision together.


	6. Chapter 6

They carry their gear and Tony’s purchases up to his apartment in two trips, Gibbs complaining that Tony has gone overboard with dinner. Tony shuts him up with a kiss and settles him on the sofa, letting him get started working on his paperwork on Tony’s laptop while Tony puts away the groceries, changes into comfortable clothes – frayed sweatpants cut off at the knees and a faded OSU t-shirt – and begins prepping. He is making osso buco and that requires braising time so he gets that going until all the meat has been dredged, sautéed and then nested in the braising liquid.

He then begins work making pasta by hand – he has decided to make tagliatelle in a traditional meat ragout. Gibbs keeps an eye on him as he measures semolina and salt out onto his clean granite-topped island and makes a well. He works quickly and efficiently, cracking eggs and mixing with his hands. He hums quietly while he works and before Gibbs knows it he is kneading the dough and then rolling it out using what looks like an ancient pasta-roller.

“I would have thought you’d use the newest top-of-the-line equipment for that?” Gibbs called out from the sofa.

“What?” Tony looks up – he has smudges of flour on one cheek as well as on his clothes. “Sorry – was in my head. What’d you say?”

Gibbs stands and walks over to watch Tony cranking the handle to roll out the pasta dough. “I said, I thought you’d have the newest equipment, all shiny and matching with your décor for this.”

Tony blinks for a second, looking around his kitchen. Everything is very put together, sleek and modern, and his hand-crank pasta roller is an antique and a little incongruous. “I learned to make this from our cook and she was old school, like I said. She died a few years ago, and she left me her pasta roller and some other equipment, and her grandmother’s recipes to me in her will. None of her children or grandchildren were ever interested in being in the kitchen, she said,” his hands continuing to work, rolling out the dough.

“Your father’s cook left you her cooking equipment and her recipes?”

“Well, I was always underfoot and I always helped. Or tried to. I mean, I knew she was my father’s employee, but she never seemed to mind and always gave me tasks to do. She made me feel useful.”

“Sounds like she loved you.”

“Maybe. At least a little I guess,” Tony smiled up at him. “Huh. Never really thought about it, but I guess she kind of treated me like one of her own. So maybe she did love me.”

“Why didn’t you tell her about Mulroney?” the question popped out before Gibbs could stop it. “She would have tried to do something.”

Tony shook his head. “I couldn’t tell her. What if my dad fired her? I needed her. I wanted her to stay. She was already getting in trouble with trying to get someone to stop my father from pounding the crap out of me, and back then, you know it just wasn’t what the local LEOs would have done – stuck their necks out to help a poor little rich kid. I told Gianna that if she got in trouble with my father, then who would help me feel better afterwards? I convinced her to just let it be. And see, I still grew up OK, right?”

Gibbs stands behind Tony and puts his arms around the younger man, breathing in his scent deeply and dropping soft kisses on the back of his neck. “More than OK. You grew up nice, Tony. You’re just something else entirely.”

Tony smiles, turns his head and they kiss, long, slow, sweet. Then Tony shoos him out of the kitchen so he can finish making pasta and setting it out to dry. Gibbs goes back to the living room and gets back to work.

Tony is hand-cutting the tagliatelle with a knife to make it wide ribbons and give it that authentic hand-made look when Gibbs yells to him, “McGee says Fornell heard about the dinner and he’s coming too, and bringing Emily. And Vance might drop by as well.”

“What? Why? They don’t even know I can boil water.”

“Apparently McGee’s been waxing lyrical about your pasta. He’s psyched about tonight.”

Tony snorts. “Tell Vance to bring his kids and the hot nanny as well. What the hell.”

“The _hot_ nanny?”

“She’s pretty hot, Jethro.”

Tony hears a huff before Gibbs relays the message to McGee.

“Also tell them to bring drinks – I don’t think what I have here will be enough for everyone tonight. And bring stuff for the kids to drink. All I have is water and OJ,” Tony yells. He finishes cutting the last of the tagliatelle, sprinkles flour, places it on a tray and covers the pasta with a towel. He efficiently scrapes dried dough off the island using a dough scraper, and begins measuring out more flour. He will have to make a double batch to accommodate all the guests.

Gibbs comes into the kitchen while Tony’s kneading the next batch of pasta, turns him and pulls him in for a demanding kiss, surprising the younger man before he melts into the kiss. Gibbs yanks at his hair to give him a better angle and the kiss turns savage. Tony moans into Gibbs mouth and rubs his erection against his hard body, his hands kneading Gibbs’ bare ass instead of the pasta dough.

Gibbs pulls away from him, his blue eyes glittering. “You think Vance’s nanny is _hot_ , DiNozzo?”

“What?” Tony’s brain is still scrambled from the kiss. “You’re hot.”

Gibbs kisses him again, hard, demanding entry and possessing Tony’s mouth, loving the moans he is drawing out of the younger man. “Mine,” he declares, and sucks on his tongue before savaging his mouth again. “I don’t share. Mine. No hot nannies.”

The words slowly seep into Tony’s head as he is kissed to within an inch of sanity. He whimpers when Gibbs pulls away. “Got it?”

“Got it, Boss. No hot nannies,” he mumbles, automatic response. “Wait. What?” he finally comes to his senses and looks at Gibbs in confusion. “What hot nanny? What are you…?” and it dawns on him. “Are you jealous?” he is shocked.

“Yes. No. Maybe. Yes.”

“Of who, exactly?”

“You said Vance’s nanny was hot.”

“She is!” and when Gibbs growls in response, Tony starts laughing. “Oh my god. You’re jealous!” And he kisses Gibbs, a long, slow, deep, kiss. “Yours,” he agrees. “No sharing. Same goes for you. OK?”

Gibbs nods. “OK.”

“Did we just commit to each other?” Tony asks him.

“I thought we did that last night. I thought you’ve been committed for fifteen years.”

“I have. We did. Wow,” he smiles in wonder. He is suddenly serious. “You don’t have to worry about me. It’s only you for me. Now. Always. Only you.”

“It’s not a secret you’ve always been very active sexually.”

“True, but now that I have you, you’re all I want or need. I don’t know if I can stop flirting with people though, Jethro. Plus, it’s how I get many of our witnesses and bystanders to tell me stuff.”

Gibbs laughs. “If you stopped flirting, I’d know you were dead.”

“But you get that it’s harmless, right? I don’t mean anything by it. And I’m pretty sure everyone I flirt with knows it, too.”

Gibbs nods. “I get it.”

“I’ll probably still look, too. I might be committed but I’m not dead.”

Gibbs headslaps him and he laughs.

“You’re sexy when you’re jealous,” Tony tells him, kissing him. They explore each other leisurely before Gibbs’ phone chirps. Growling, Gibbs walks away to the coffee table where he left his phone. Tony is panting and breathless and completely aroused, and with a frustrated growl he washes his hands, and goes back to making pasta.

For the dinner, he decides he will have to bake bread since he didn’t buy enough for everyone coming. He cleans and sanitizes the island surface before he measures out flour. Two giant loaves, he decides. He doesn’t even need to look Gianna’s recipes – he’d helped her make this bread daily as a child. He works efficiently and before long, he’s taking out all his aggression by kneading and pounding the bread dough. He finds himself imagining Senior and Garrett and pounding their heads in and it makes the kneading of the bread go well. He pours his anger into the movements, completely absorbed by it. He jumps when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, you OK?” Gibbs asks him.

Tony is panting with the exertion.

“You’re torturing that thing. I think you’ve got it. It’s not getting away. You won’t even need to cuff it.”

Tony half laughs. “Just taking my aggression out on it I guess,” he confesses. “Plus it activates all the glutens and makes the bread rise, nice and fluffy.”

“OK, but don’t hurt yourself. You’re worrying me.”

“I’m OK,” Tony takes a deep breath.

Gibbs gives him a concerned look before Tony turns back to the bread. He’s more controlled in his movements and soon the loaves are rising under a towel. All Tony needs to do is work on the meat sauce, the antipasta platter and the risotto. He looks at the bread that he bought and decides he should make something with them.

“What d’you think? Bruschetta, garlic bread, or bread pudding?” he has a kitchen towel draped on one shoulder and stands in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room.

“What?”

“I’ve some store brought Italian bread – thought I should do something different with them since we’ll have Gianna’s bread for the meal.”

“Which one is bruschetta?”

“The toasty thing with toppings – tomato and herbs or some such?”

“Hmm something easy since you’re doing so many things. Garlic bread.”

“OK.”

“With cheese?”

“You want it with cheese?”

“Yes please.”

“Coming right up!”

Tony starts on the meat sauce, grinding the meat mixture himself, chopping vegetables and working his magic in the kitchen. The apartment smells heavenly.

When there’s a lull in the cooking activities, Tony sits on the sofa, flipping through the files, spreading papers on the piano, making careful notes in his notebook. The afternoon passes quickly. The team is scheduled to arrive at 1900.

“You have dough in your hair,” he tells Gibbs. “Probably on your ass too. From the ‘jealous much?’ kisses earlier. Wanna shower with me?”

Gibbs swats his hands away from picking stuff out of his hair. “Go shower. I don’t want to be caught in it with my pants down when Fornell and his kid and Vance and his kids and his hot nanny arrive.”

Tony sticks his tongue out before he walks away. “Fine. I need to shower. I smell like food.”

Gibbs is the one to answer the door when the first guests arrive – he can still hear the shower on. McGee, Delilah and Abby are the first to arrive.

“Oh my god, we could smell this from all the way down the hall,” Abby gushes. “He’s gone all out?”

“He’s been going crazy in the kitchen all afternoon,” Gibbs tells them, ushering them in. “He’s in the shower now. Hello Delilah.”

Tim and Abby have brought beer and wine and slip the beer in the fridge and leave the wine on the island. Delilah looks around with great curiousity. “Wow, this is not how I imagined what Tony’s place would look like.”

Tim smiles gleefully. “I can’t wait to eat. Did he make lasagna?”

“Nope. Something else. Don’t ask me what.”

Tony comes out of the bedroom, freshly showered, wearing a stylish green button down shirt with the top buttons undone, tucked into dark jeans that hug his ass lovingly. His feet are bare and his hair damp and sticking up from the shower. He sweeps all the papers on the piano and coffee table into file folders and puts his work stuff into his bedroom, while Gibbs hands out beers. Tony opens bottles of red and white wine and pours while the rest of the guests arrive.

He puts out the antipasta platters – fig wrapped in pancetta, assortment of cheeses, olives, Italian meats, even some expensive Iberian ham – and drops the pasta into the pot of boiling water.

“We going traditional Italian, DiNutzo?” Fornell ribs him.

“My nonna would be proud of tonight’s meal, Fornelli,” Tony retorts, giving Fornell's name its Italian pronunciation, smiling.

After some initial shyness, Emily, Jared and Kayla join in the chatter and everything goes well. Tony doesn’t have enough chairs for everyone around the dining table so people are scattered everywhere. 

When he brings the tagliatelle in meat ragout, and shaves pecorino romano cheese all over the top, even Fornell is impressed.

“Did you hand make the tagliatelle, DiNutzo?” he demands.

“He hand-made pretty much everything, Tobias,” Gibbs chimes in with pride. Tony smiles at him as he brings out the garlic bread (some with melting mozzarella), and slices the crusty bread that he’d baked, and sets out the large salad bowl and dressing options.

“Did you bake the bread yourself?” Vance is shocked.

Tony shrugs. “I didn’t buy enough so had to make some.”

Tony watches happily as everyone digs into the pasta, smiling at the appreciative groans and comments. He sips his beer and keeps stirring the risotto. When everyone is done with their pasta course, he brings the osso buco and risotto out – Abby takes the pasta bowls away and brings out clean plates and silverware. Tony makes a plate – risotto on the bottom, then osso buco on top, spoonful of gremolata on the meat, sprinkle of parmigiano reggiano cheese and hands it to Gibbs. He explains that this is a traditional older version of osso buco, without the tomatoes, and is called osso buco bianco and traditionally served with risotto. Then he stands back and watches as everyone helps themselves to the food.

“I wouldn’t have had so much pasta if I knew this was coming,” Bishop complains, smiling at Tony. “You really know how to cook, Tony. This is amazing. I see now why McGee was drooling thinking about you making pasta.”

Tony laughs and brushes the compliments away. Gibbs realizes that Tony hasn’t actually eaten anything so he goes into the kitchen and fixes him a bowl of pasta, handing it to him and ordering him to eat. Tony smiles at him and proceeds to eat. Gibbs has not given him too much food – he knows that underneath it all Tony is still rattled and his appetite has been affected. He ends up eating the pasta, and then picks at some risotto and ossobuco.

“There’s dessert,” he warns everyone, and there is a collective groan. He starts the coffeemaker and tries to start clearing up but Abby, Bishop, Palmer and Tim tell him to sit his ass down and they start clearing the dishes, loading and running the dishwasher. They rinse and stack all the dishes that don’t fit in the first load, readying them for the next load.

Dessert and coffee (with a shot of amaretto, bourbon or scotch for those who wanted it) eaten, Tony’s guests are lounging around his apartment, looking full and satisfied.

They end up staying late, just hanging out, bantering and relaxing. After dessert, Ducky insists that Tony sit on the sofa with his feet on the coffee table and his injured knee elevated and iced. Tony rolls his eyes but decides to humor his doctor. By the end of the evening, Tony has fallen asleep on the sofa, completely undisturbed by the chatter going on around him.

They realize he’s asleep when he doesn’t answer a question. For a moment, they just look at their exhausted friend.

“He’s holding up well,” Vance comments, “all things considering.”

“Why? What’s going on?” Emily, Fornell’s daughter wants to know.

“Work stuff, you know we can’t talk about it,” Fornell tells her.

“Maybe we should go so he can go to bed?” Jake wonders.

“Not before we take the leftovers,” McGee declares. He looks in a drawer and pulls out boxes of plastic baggies. “He still keeps them in the same place,” he says happily.

“How’d you know where he keeps his Ziploc bags?” Bishop wants to know.

“When Ziva was still with us, we used to cook for each other. Like once a month or so, cases permitting. At each other’s places. Tony always made us take away his leftovers so it wouldn’t go to waste.” McGee finds plastic storage containers and puts away a helping of pasta, and the osso buco and risotto, placing these in the fridge. “I’ll save him some for later and we can take the rest. Then we can re-load the dishwasher with everything and he won’t even have to clean up.”

“You guys used to cook for each other?” Gibbs is surprised. Even he hadn’t been aware of that.

Tim shrugs. “It just kind of happened. We complained about all the restaurants and take out food, so Ziva offered to cook one night, then Tony did, then me. And we just kept it going. Kind of fell apart after Ziva left.” Unspoken is the part about Tony also falling apart after he returned home without Ziva.

McGee efficiently divides up the leftover food, filling bags and sealing it while Abby unloads the dishwasher and Gibbs helps her put all the clean dishes away. Bishop and Palmer work to fill the dishwasher. When all the dishes have been loaded and the dishwasher run, Gibbs finds himself sanitizing Tony’s countertops, island, and dining tabletop since he knows about Tony’s neat-freak tendencies. Meanwhile, Tony has peacefully slept through all this.

Abby wakes him to hug him goodbye, and although embarrassed at having fallen asleep, he hugs his teammates, shakes Fornell’s and Vance’s hands, thanks everyone for coming and then suddenly only Gibbs is left.

Tony goes into the kitchen and is surprised and pleased that everything is ship-shape. “They can come to dinner again if this is how they behave. No clean up,” he smiles. “McGee distribute the leftovers?”

Gibbs nods.

“Good man.”

“Did you eat enough?” Gibbs is concerned. Tony waves his hand dismissively. When Gibbs tries to talk about it, Tony just kisses him into silence.

“Bed?” he whispers huskily. Gibbs moans into his mouth and, mouths on each other, they move slowly to the bedroom. Tony has replaced his single bed with a king-sized sleigh bed. Gibbs grins with approval as he pushes Tony onto the bed and falls on top of him, kissing his neck, sucking hard, Tony’s moans making him hard. They undress each other and begin kissing, caressing, tasting each other’s bodies until Tony flips them over so he is on top.

He licks Gibbs’ leaking cock from base to head and begins sucking on his cockhead. Gibbs fingers are in his hair, and he is trying to thrust himself further into Tony’s mouth. Tony dollops lube on his fingers and onto Gibbs’ hole and begins working his fingers in and finger fucking him. Gibbs is moaning with pleasure, almost coming off the bed the first time Tony brushes against his prostate.

“Holy fuck – there, again. More. Tony please, ohhhh,” he breaks off as Tony brushes his prostate again. When Tony has managed to work three fingers into his tight passage, he removes them – making Gibbs whimper in protest – and kneels in between Gibbs’ legs while he rolls a condom on and liberally lubes himself.

“You sure you want this?” he asks Gibbs huskily, brushing his cock against Gibbs’ ass.

“I want you, Tony. I need you,” Gibbs lifts his ass, rubbing himself against Tony. “I fucking need you to fuck me.”

“Who’s the one with the potty mouth now?” Tony smiles, taking Gibbs’ lower lip between his teeth before kissing him hard. He pushes himself into Gibbs and when his cockhead has breached the tight muscles he stops and they both groan. Gibbs is tight, and all he wants to do is bury himself into the hilt and begin thrusting and fucking him into the mattress. “You OK?” he checks with Gibbs.

“Need all of you in me,” Gibbs pants, hands on Tony’s hips, his legs curled around Tony, giving him better access.

Slowly, Tony works himself in, carefully, until he is fully seated. He waits, giving Gibbs time to get used to him, kissing him deeply and stroking Gibbs’ cock. When he feels Gibbs relax against him, he begins thrusting and Gibbs moans. He changes the angle of his thrusts and begins hitting Gibbs’ prostate with every stroke, and Gibbs scrabbles at the bedclothes, legs locked tightly around Tony, panting and moaning and cursing. Eyes closed tightly, feeling the unbelievable pleasure that came with every stroke, he finds himself begging for more, harder, there, yes, don’t stop.

Tony continues thrusting, willing himself not to let go, not to come, even though he is ready to burst. He begins pulling on Gibbs’ cock as he thrusts himself deep into his body, stroking him in time to the deep thrusts. Gibbs comes undone and screams Tony’s name as he comes, painting their bodies with cum. His body tightening around Tony is his undoing and he thrusts a few more times before climaxing hard and falling on top of Gibbs, breathing hard, heart pounding, completely spent.

Minutes later, when he cannot take Tony’s dead weight on him, Gibbs turns them both so Tony isn’t lying completely bonelessly on top of him. Tony rouses himself to give him a long, slow, kiss and gets up. He cleans himself up in the bathroom and brings a wet washcloth, and wipes Gibbs’ body. He tosses the washcloth into the laundry basket and climbs back into bed, curling himself around his lover, kissing him softly.

“Love you Jethro,” Gibbs can hear the smile in his voice.

“Love you Tony,” Gibbs kisses him, loving the feel of Tony’s head on his chest and the hard muscled body in his arms.

Tony yawns and Gibbs can feel him relaxing and starting the descent into sleep. He jerks his head up once. “Jet?”

“Hmm?”

“That was OK for you, wasn’t it? You enjoyed it?” There it was, that insecurity that Tony tries very hard to hide.

“Mmmmm,” the sound rumbles, deep in Gibbs’ chest, “oh yeah. Fuck yeah. Can’t wait to do it again. Amazing. I want to make you come like that. That was crazy intense,” his hand absently strokes Tony’s head.

Tony laughs. “OK,” he purrs, closing his eyes. “Night, Jethro.”

“Good night, gorgeous.”

“Did you just call me..?” Tony lifts his head up again, surprised.

“Yeah, gorgeous. You heard me. And now I can hear you blushing, Tony,” Gibbs laughs.

Tony hides his flushing face in Gibbs’ chest, grinning with embarrassment. “Ah fuck, you’re the one who’s gorgeous, Jet.”

“Just go on and go to sleep.”

Tony yawns, mumbles some words, and relaxes into sleep. Gibbs is smiling as he falls asleep.

A few hours later, he is awakened – Tony is thrashing and moaning in his sleep. He throws his arms around the younger man, rubbing him soothingly, speaking soft words of love and safety.

“Easy, Tony. I gotcha Tony, you’re OK, you’re safe. I’ll keep you safe. I gotcha, love. They won’t get through me. You’re safe.”

Tony jerks awake with a half-strangled scream, and Gibbs tightens his arms around him, continuing the soft whispered words. As he had the previous night, Tony turns into his embrace, hides his face in Gibbs’ chest and begins weeping, hot, silent tears. Gibbs holds him close, rubbing his back, shoulders, side, kissing his head, continuing to whisper reassuringly. Finally the tears subside and Tony pulls away, filled with shame. He begins stammering apologies but Gibbs refuses to release him, pulling him closer as they face each other, lying on their sides. He curls one leg around Tony’s, so that they are skin to skin as much as he can get them to be. Tony keeps his head down, hiding his face.

“Don’t apologize for this,” he says soothingly. “You’re not alone anymore. I’m here now. You’re safe with me.”

“Fucking baby. DiNozzos don’t cry,” Tony hiccups, “stupid weak pathetic…”

“No, no you’re not,” Gibbs tells him, gently but firmly. “Not any of those things.”

Tony’s head dips lower.

“Look at me.”

Tony shakes his head wordlessly. Gibbs places a hand on his cheek and gently makes him look up. “Show me your beautiful eyes, love. Don’t hide from me.”

“’M a mess.”

“Never,” Gibbs tells him. “Are you listening? Tony? You listening?”

Tony nods, finally meeting Gibbs’ blue eyes, blazing brightly in the darkness.

“You’re not weak. You’re strong. Tears don’t make you weak. Nightmares don’t make you weak. You’ve always been strong, always done the right thing, always put others before yourself. You’re the strongest person I know. And I’m a Marine,” Gibbs smiles when Tony rolls his eyes at that. “You make me want to be a better person so I can deserve you. You’re a good man. And you’ve got me now. You don’t have to shoulder this all by yourself anymore. You hear me?”

Tony nods, and another tear leaks from his eyes. “I hear you, boss.”

Gibbs wipes the tear away and kisses his nose. “I see you, Tony. And I love you. All of you,” Tony feels as if Gibbs’ eyes are gazing right into his soul and he cannot hide himself or pull a mask. He finds he doesn’t want to hide himself and that he wants Gibbs to see him. Finally, Gibbs kisses him gently, rubbing him soothingly. “You don’t ever have to hide from me, love.”

Tony hiccups a little, and with a soft sigh, relaxes into Gibbs’ embrace. “Thank you,” he whispers, “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

And it’s true, Tony has never felt as loved as he does now, in Gibbs’ arms. Gibbs has known him for fifteen years, warts and all, and seen him go through everything during their time together. And now he knows that Gibbs accepts him for who he is, despite his best efforts to keep everyone at arm’s length. For the first time in his life, he feels warm inside. There is hope, if someone as damaged as he is can be loved by someone as good, strong, faithful, and let’s face it, strikingly handsome as Gibbs, then maybe there is hope.

Gibbs turns to lie on his back, bringing Tony with him, plastered to his body. He holds Tony with both arms, rubbing him soothingly. And for perhaps the first time in his life, the younger man feels completely cherished and loved. He breathes deeply and holds that feeling close to his heart and without even realizing it, he falls back to sleep.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tony awakens with a shudder and a moan – Gibbs mouth is on his hardened cock and he has taken him all the way in.

“Good morning, love,” Gibbs tells him speaking around the hard cock in his mouth. His eyes are twinkling with mischief. He sucks on Tony’s cockhead.

“Oh fuck, motherfucker oh god,” Tony arches his back, thrusting into Gibbs’ mouth. He tries to reach for Gibbs but he stays out of reach determinedly.

Gibbs lets Tony fuck his mouth for a bit before he stills Tony’s hips. “I want to fuck you this morning.”

Tony nods frantically, trying to pull Gibbs’ head back down onto his leaking shaft. Gibbs gets the lube and begins his first foray into making love to Tony. He learns all of the ways to drive Tony insane by slipping his fingers in and out of Tony’s tight ass, scissoring his fingers inside, and when he finds the sensitive prostate and Tony practically comes off the bed with pleasure, he feels pride.

“Oh my god, you’re gorgeous when you’re like this,” Gibbs tells him, “I like it when you beg and whimper and curse.”

“Fuck me,” Tony demands, “Put your dick inside me, and fuck me hard. Oh fuck!” he screams when Gibbs simultaneously brushes up against his prostate and sucks on his cockhead. “Please please please oh please.”

Finally Gibbs is done torturing Tony bringing him close to his climax and pulling back, rolls a condom on and lubes his aching cock, and slides himself deep until his balls are against Tony’s ass. Tony is moaning uncontrollably, his legs around Gibbs’ back, pulling him down for desperately hungry kisses, begging him to move. Gibbs begins moving, thrusting and trying to angle it so he hits Tony’s prostate. When Tony’s legs tighten around him and he arches off the bed, he figures he’s done it, so he continues thrusting in at that angle. Before long he’s pounding hard and Tony’s practically sobbing with need. He strokes Tony’s cock in time to his thrusts and Tony begins unraveling. Gibbs keeps his eyes open so he can watch as Tony’s moans rise to a fevered pitch, hands grabbing the sheets, then he stiffens, his mouth open in a perfect, silent “o” and he comes so hard that he spurts on his chin, his chest, and all over Gibbs. This sight is seared into Gibbs’ brain and he thrusts a few more times into Tony’s now boneless body before he finds his own release deep inside Tony, calling his name. He lies heavily on top of Tony, brushing sated kisses on any part of sweaty golden skin that he can reach without moving his head. Tony is completely out of it, eyes shut, breathing hard, unable to move a muscle.

When they have both recovered, Gibbs licks the cum off Tony’s chin. “So did I do OK?” he asks.

“Oh…my…god…” Tony mutters, “any better and I’m dying of a heart attack, babe. You just about fucked me to death there.”

Gibbs can’t help the proud smirk on his face. “Good.”

“You sure you’ve never done that before?”

“Nope.”

“Mmm…I bet I pass out next time you do that to me.”

“I thought DiNozzos don’t pass out?”

“For an orgasm that intense, I’m willing to break that rule.”

They chuckle together and kiss lazily. “I guess we have to get up at some point, huh?” Tony says regretfully. “I don’t want to face today’s mail call.”

“We’ll get him.”

“I know.”

They get up, shave and shower together. Tony’s coffee maker is programmed to brew so when they walk into the kitchen, it’s ready for them. Gibbs tells him that they should plan to work at home in the morning and head in in the afternoon to check out the new mail (if any) and get a sit-rep. Tony makes a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast (made from the heel of Tony’s fresh baked bread) for them before they settle down to work in the living room.

Tony is deep into a cold case, papers have been spread out on top of his piano and the coffee table, fingers tapping on the coffee table. Gibbs realizes that all this time when Tony’s fingers are tapping nervously or absently, he is actually playing the piano in his head. He nudges the younger man and points to the piano.

“Huh?” Tony is confused.

“You’re already playing something on the coffee table. May as well take advantage of being home and play it on an actual piano while we’re home.”

Tony flashes him a grin and brings his notebook, pen and the paper he was staring at to the piano. He sits there and thinks, and loses himself in the case, the fingers of his right hand moving over the keys absently. He’s so lost in his head that he doesn’t hear Gibbs’ phone chirping.

“Yeah, Gibbs.”

“Boss, you need to come in and bring Tony,” McGee tells him. “He sent pictures today. By courier.”

“Old pictures of DiNozzo?”

“Yes and no,” McGee’s voice is tight.

“Stalking him?”

“Looks like it.”

“Another note?”

“Yep. No charms or keepsakes.”

“We’ll be right there.”

Gibbs ends the call. He walks over and places a gentle hand on Tony’s shoulder, even then making him jump out of his skin.

“Grab your gear. We’re heading in.”

“What happened?” Tony gets up and begins sweeping the papers into folders and stuffing them into his backpack. “What did he send that we have to go in right now?”

“Photos.”

“Fuck. More fun down Tony’s memory lane,” he mutters, putting his shoes on and running his fingers through his hair.

“Not all from the past.”

Tony groans. “Stalking? Tell me we can get him for stalking a Federal Agent?”

The gather all their things and leave, Gibbs double checking that Tony’s door is locked before they walk to the car, Gibbs holding Tony’s hand tightly in his.


	7. Chapter 7

They emerge from the elevator onto the squadroom floor, and McGee and Bishop escort them directly to Vance’s office, where Fornell and Vance are waiting.

Tony smiles awkwardly at everyone. “So, what’s on our ‘let’s flush Tony’s day down the toilet’ agenda today?”

Gibbs glares at him.

“Shutting up, Boss.”

“What do you got?” Gibbs directs the question to McGee and Bishop. 

McGee spreads the photos each in their own evidence bags. Gibbs begins growling in his throat. There are five pictures of Tony, all taken in the past week. The fifth is a close up shot of Tony, smiling to someone off-camera, finger in his mouth. It had been taken the day before, when Gibbs and Tony had gone grocery shopping.

Tony is surprisingly calm. He looks at each photo, blushing at the one from the day before, sneaking a quick glance at Gibbs. “Huh, so I guess we’re done with the kid gloves? Did he threaten me?”

“This was taken yesterday afternoon,” Gibbs points to the offending picture, barely containing his rage. Someone had taken pictures of Tony while he was with him and he hadn’t spotted a tail. “We were grocery shopping. I didn’t see anyone following us.”

“Me neither. I’m usually good at feeling off if I’m being followed and photographed for a week. But nothing. Not this week,” Tony says absently. One of the photos is of him playing at the touch football game that his frat buddies and some friends had organized the previous Sunday. One of them is of him at a crime scene, outfitted in standard issue NCIS hat and windbreaker, sunglasses shading his eyes, notebook and pen in hand. Interviewing a witness.

“These are some good shots of you, Tony,” Bishop says. “You look really good in all of these. This one from yesterday is kind of sexy.”

Gibbs glares at Bishop. “Sorry Boss. I meant to say that Tony takes some good pictures if he doesn’t keep making faces at the camera like he usually does. Like the camera loves him. Look. Or maybe it’s the bone structure.” Bishop colors as Gibbs’ glare gets even more death-inducing. “OK never mind. So, stalker?”

“It’s really not so bad, guys,” Tony tells them, “this I can handle. At least I’m not on the herpes website again. Wait, am I? Did you check, McGee?”

McGee punches his arm. “Shut up Tony. There’s more.” There are two old photos – one of child-Tony hauling himself out of a pool, water streaming down his bare torso, piano charm hanging around his neck, and another a polaroid of child-Tony lying out in the sun in a grassy spot, face turned towards the photographer, eyes closed, completely bare-assed naked. Tony pales at these photos and Gibbs pushes him into a chair.

“He took me to my swim meets,” he mutters softly, eyes glazed over. “And I don’t even know when he took that one. I guess I should be glad I’m on my stomach in that photo.” His heart begins pounding. “I don’t know why these old photos are freaking me out. It was so fucking long ago.”

“There’s a note. You want to read it?” Fornell asks gently.

“No. But I’m gonna anyway.”

Another evidence bag is placed in front of him on the table and Tony forces himself to look at the note.

_Anthony bello,_  
_You can see I’ve found you again. You look happy. Are you happy? I’m not. How can I be without you? You’ve always been the one. I can’t believe you got away from me. Will you speak to me, bello? I need to speak with you. I miss you. I will always miss you, innamorato mio._  
_Sempre,_  
_G_

Tony closes his eyes, and tries to breathe through his mouth as his stomach flip flops.

“He’s gonna throw up,” McGee warns, and Bishop brings a trash can over.

“I’m not gonna..” and Tony begins heaving into Vance’s trash can. Gibbs rubs his back soothingly until he’s done. McGee hands him wet paper towels and a cup of water from the pitcher on the table. Tony rinses his mouth, spits into the trash can, and wipes his face with the paper towels. Efficiently, Bishop ties off the trash bag and places it and the can near Vance’s door, ready to be disposed of.

“OK?” Gibbs looks into his eyes.

Tony nods. Vance hands him a cup of hot chocolate and Tony looks at him in surprise. Vance just nods at him, silently urging him to drink so he takes a sip of the liquid and covers his eyes with his hands, just breathing. Finally he looks up, having recovered his composure.

“Sorry about that,” he says wryly, “he has a knack for making me upchuck.”

“It’s interesting that you didn’t care that he’s stalking you now,” Bishop says.

“I’m sure I can handle him now,” Tony shrugs, “but those things from the past is kind of a punch in the gut. Even though I was prepared for it today, or I thought I was.”

There is a knock and Abby comes flying in, rushing to hug Tony tightly first before turning to the group. “These pictures were not taken by the same person,” she declares. “Look – I analyzed it and each of these five pictures were taken using different cameras, and the composition and angles of the shots also tell me they were taken by different people. That’s why Tony hasn’t spotted a tail. It’s cause this bastard is sending different people to do it.”

“Plus I think we got something on him now.” With great satisfaction, Abby begins pulling up emails and websites that Mulroney had thought were secret and could not be tied to him. They find incriminating evidence including emails to his newest underaged paramours, and even compromising photos of him and at least two young boys. The boys look disturbingly like the photos of Tony as a child.

When Fornell is satisfied that they have an airtight case, he grins ferociously at the group. “I’m getting a warrant for his arrest,” his phone is in his hands and he gestures to McGee to come with him.

In the meantime, Tony has gotten paler and paler during the discussion. The thought of all those boys that he could have done something about was suffocating him. By the time Fornell and McGee storm out, ready to take action, he has begun hyperventilating. Gibbs pushes him down so his head is between his legs and sends Bishop to get a paper bag for him to breathe into. Gibbs keeps his hand on Tony’s back, rubbing soothing circles and murmuring comforting words. Vance puts his arms around Abby to prevent her from crowding the distressed man. Ducky is quickly summoned but by the time he arrives, Tony’s breathing is calmer and his heart rate less thunderous. Gibbs is still making him sit with his head between his knees.

Ducky takes his vitals and finds that his blood pressure is still elevated, and orders him home to rest and de-stress.

Tony has regained his composure and looks a little sheepish. “I’m OK,” he tries to reassure everyone, but his pallor betrays him.

“Fornell and McGee are bringing him in now,” Gibbs tells him. “This will be over soon.”

Tony nods. “I know. I just – just look at those poor boys. And I did nothing to stop him all these years. This is all my fault!”

“This is _not_ your fault.”

“If I didn’t bury it all, I could have stopped this twenty years ago, Gibbs. How the fuck is this not my fucking fault?” Tony starts yelling. “How can I live with this? Look at those boys! _Look_ at them! I didn’t do anything to stop Garrett! I’m just as much to blame for hiding it all away. For not facing my fears. For being _weak_. This is _my_ fault!!!!” The rage bubbles uncontrollably through him. He begins roaring and pounding on the table, then pulling on it, and Gibbs cannot get through to him by calling his name, “Tony! DiNozzo!” repeatedly. Even the headslaps have no effect.

In the end, Gibbs has to restrain Tony while Ducky injects him with a sedative, and Gibbs is forced to hold the screaming, straining man, one arm behind his back, face against the wall, as if he is apprehending an uncooperative suspect, until the sedative begins to take effect. Tony has managed to overturn the heavy conference table and scatter evidence, chairs and break the glassware.

Finally, Tony quiets down and when Gibbs releases him, he slides down to the floor in a heap. He looks around, eyes glassy, completely out of it.

“Come on, Tony, let’s let Ducky look you over then you can take a nap, OK?” Gibbs is gentle, kneeling down next to him, petting his head.

Tony leans into his touch but his eyes fill with tears. “It’s all my fault, Jethro,” he whispers.

“No, it’s not. Come on. Ducky is going to check you out and then I’ll take care of you. OK? Fornell and McGee are going to bring him in now, and because of you, nobody else will get hurt. See? You did it. You stopped him. You did do something about it.”

“Too late. All those boys. All fucked up, like me,” the desolation in his voice is heartbreaking. Abby is sobbing in Vance’s arms.

“You’re not fucked up,” Gibbs cups his face and makes him look up. “You’re _not_ fucked up.”

Tony blinks and knuckles the tears away fiercely. “The hell I’m not.”

“Trust me. You’re not fucked up. No more than the rest of us.”

“Not fucked up?” his eyelids are getting heavy, and he sounds very childlike.

“Nope. You’re OK. Come on, you’re scaring everyone.”

“Sorry Boss.”

“Come on, we’re going to get you down to Autopsy so Ducky can check you out, OK?” Gibbs faces Tony and puts both his arms around his shoulders, and heaves him to his feet in an awkward hug. Tony smiles sweetly at him and buries his face in the older man’s neck.

“Smell good,” he mumbles, “Safe. Love. Mmm.”

“I gotcha Tony.” By this time Jimmy has been summoned and he and Gibbs help to drag Tony down to Autopsy and settle him on one of the steel tables, turned on his side with a pillow under his head. Tony is unconscious. Ducky examines him while Gibbs watches anxiously.

“Well, Jethro, Anthony's vitals are back to normal. But he is obviously sedated. He should be down for a couple of hours,” Ducky tells him.

Gibbs scrubs his face with his hands. “God, Duck. What a mess.”

“How has the dear boy been at home with you?”

“He keeps his mind off things, keeps busy, and well, you know him, he prefers to focus on more positive thoughts.”

“So avoidance and denial then?”

“Pretty much.”

“How’s he sleeping?” Ducky is surprised to see Gibbs color a little at the question.

“Bad nightmares,” Gibbs finally answers reluctantly. He doesn’t want to betray any confidences but Ducky needs to know the truth so they can help Tony. “But he’s sleeping OK otherwise.”

Ducky sighs and strips off his gloves. “I’ll keep an eye on him, Jethro, and I’ll call when he’s rousing.”

Gibbs nods. “I better go help Vance straighten out his office.” Keeping his back to Ducky, he leans over Tony’s supine body, runs his hands through his hair and caresses his cheek. He grins to see Tony smile in his sleep at his touch. He leans down, grips Tony’s hand, whispers softly in Tony’s ear and surreptitiously brushes a kiss on his cheek. Reluctantly, he tells Ducky to call him before Tony wakes up fully, in case he is still upset, and then goes back to Vance’s office.

There, he helps Vance straighten out the table while Abby collects the evidence bags and Vance’s assistant is sweeping up the broken glass. When everything has been restored, Vance sighs. As always he is chewing on a toothpick

“I used to wonder what it would look like if DiNozzo ever let any of that anger show.”

“Think you got front row seats to that today.”

Vance snorts. “Remind me not to get on his bad side. How is he?”

“Sedated and sacked out in Autopsy. Hopefully he will be himself when he wakes up. Any news on Fornell?”

“He’s gotten the arrest warrant and he and McGee are picking Mulroney up now.”

Gibbs sighs. “Let’s hope this is over now. I don’t know how much more DiNozzo can take.” Gibbs sits at his desk for a little but he ends up going down to Autopsy before long. He pulls a chair up to the table Tony is lying on. Ducky has covered him with a blanket. In his sleep, Tony looks younger than his years. Gibbs has to stop himself from running his hands over Tony’s body, knowing that Ducky and Palmer can easily see him. He takes Tony’s hand in his and rubs his thumb on it absently.

After a couple of hours, Tony begins to stir. He moans, and his eyelids flutter.

“Hey, DiNozzo. You with me?” Gibbs calls him, patting his cheek and squeezing his hand.

“Boss?” Tony sounds sleepy and confused. “Wha ‘ppened?”

“Fornell and McGee are taking Mulroney to the Hoover building right now.”

Tony nods sleepily. “K.” He looks around and realizes that he is on an autopsy table. “Why ‘m I in Autopsy? M not dead yet, am I? I’m not dead. I got better!” From his tone, Gibbs knows he must be quoting a movie and smiles faintly. Quoting movies is a good sign.

“No, you’re alive. You were upset in Vance’s office. Ducky had to sedate you.”

Tony frowns at that. “Ducky…drugged…me?”

“He had to. You were on a rampage.”

“Me? Nooo cool cucumber…”

“Scared me, DiNozzo.”

Tony smiles at him, that heartbreakingly sweet smile of his and Gibbs can’t help smiling back. “You were worried…about me?”

Gibbs squeezes his hand and nods. “You were so far gone. Couldn’t get you to stop.”

“Headslap?”

“Didn’t work.”

“Huh.” Tony struggles to sit up and Gibbs helps him up, ensuring that the younger man does not topple over or roll off the table by accident. He ends up sitting next to the younger man, keeping an arm around him. With a sigh, Tony leans his head on Gibbs’ shoulder.

When Ducky walks in with a cup of tea for Tony, the younger man tries to sit up and away, but Gibbs holds him close and whispers something in his ear that makes him smile. Something seems to have changed in the two men’s relationship, Ducky thinks. This ordeal with Mulroney seems to have brought them closer, closer even than when they first started working together as a two-man team all those years ago. There was a wealth of history between the two men, and there had been some questionable times when he truly thought that Anthony would have left Jethro for good, but he had stuck it out somehow.

Tony gratefully accepts the cup of tea, and brushes away Ducky’s apology at having to sedate him. Gibbs continues to sit next to him, thighs touching, arm still around him.

“Sorry I got out of control,” Tony apologizes quietly. “I know, Rule 6 but really, I don’t know, I just got so angry all of a sudden.”

“You bottle things up too much, dear boy,” Ducky tells him, patting his shoulder. “For once you let it all out. And now I know we must no longer let you do this. You have a lot of anger contained and if you do not have an outlet for it on a regular basis, we could see this happening again.”

Tony hangs his head. “I’m sorry Ducky. I’ll keep a better lid on it.”

“Point is, you shouldn’t have to keep a lid on it at all times, DiNozzo,” Gibbs says sternly. “Let it out or some of it out so it doesn’t just all erupt like a volcano. You messed up Vance’s office, but good.”

Tony covers his eyes. “Fuck…I’m sorry. Am I fired?”

“No!” both Ducky and Gibbs say together.

Tony sighs. “I can’t get the pictures of those boys out of my head…How could I have just turned my back on them?”

“You were a child, Anthony. You got through it and it’s only natural that you hid that not only from everybody else, you hid it from yourself,” Ducky says gently. “If he’s been doing this all these years, none of the others have come forward either. And I’d wager you were not the first. You very well know that victims of sexual abuse, especially children, have a tendency of not reporting it. And have a tendency to blame themselves. But you are not to blame. You are not at fault. You were a child, and you must not take responsibility for Mulroney’s actions. Do not give him that – he is the villain, not you.”

Tony sighs and nods, and Gibbs squeezes his shoulder reassuringly.

Ducky insists on examining Tony and gives him the all clear, but stresses that he should not exert himself until after the sedatives have worked their way out of his system.

“I’ll take him home, Ducky,” Gibbs says.

“Will you stay with him or should I send Bishop home with you?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay with him.”

“I’m fine. I don’t need a babysitter. Garrett’s in custody, no?” Tony tries to object.

Gibbs glares at him.

“Fine OK, babysitting it is,” he mutters, rolling his eyes.

“Agent DiNozzo,” Vance’s voice makes them all jump, “I asked Mr Palmer to call me when you woke up.” He walks into the room and although Tony tries to stand, Gibbs keeps him firmly sitting and his arm around the younger man.

“Sir, I’m sorry about…”

“Doesn’t Gibbs have a rule about apologies?” Vance smiles. “You’re not in trouble DiNozzo. I just wanted to come by and see how you are for myself. Ducky sending you home for the day now, I assume?”

Ducky nods.

“Good. You take care of yourself DiNozzo. We can get Dr Cranston in to speak with you when you’re ready?” Vance says.

Tony makes a face. “Shrink? Really? I mean I like Dr Kate’s Sister and all but I’m fine.”

“I think it will be good for you,” Ducky chimes in, and Tony gives him a hurt look.

“Et tu, Ducky?”

“You should speak to someone, Anthony,” Ducky says reasonably. “No more bottling it all up. No more eruptions.”

“I didn’t get my run in this morning,” he mutters. “Running centers me. I don’t want to talk about stuff. I don’t want everyone to know stuff.”

“Why don’t we hold off the shrink for a bit,” Gibbs says, “we can spar regularly and I’ll make sure you get your runs in the next few days. And we’ll go from there. If Ducky still thinks you need to speak to Dr Cranston then you will.”

Reluctantly Tony nods and tries to stifle a yawn. He rubs his eyes tiredly, the sedatives are still affecting him.

“Go home and get some rest, DiNozzo,” Vance tells him. “Fornell will keep us updated. This is almost done.”

Tony nods, “Yes sir.”

Vance nods his goodbye to everyone and walks out of autopsy, stopping briefly at the doorway, turning back. “And DiNozzo?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Kayla and Jared are insisting that you cook dinner for them again sometime. That was a hell of a meal you made for us last night. We all want to be invited to Agent Tony’s for dinner again.” He smiles.

Tony’s eyes widen in surprise, and he can’t stop the smile blooming on his face. “Uh, sure, sir. Maybe on an off-rotation weekend sometime.”

“They’ll be pleased to hear that. Take care of yourself DiNozzo.”

Tony stares at Gibbs and Ducky in surprise. “Huh. If I’d known that dinner would get me on his good side, I’da cooked for him a long time ago…” Gentle headslap, causing Tony to laugh. Gibbs and Ducky exchange a look, both of them glad to hear Tony laughing again.

“Come on,” Gibbs says gruffly. “I’m taking you home. You’re going straight to bed. No arguments.”

Tony chokes on his tea and Ducky pounds on his back while Tony tries to glare at Gibbs, who grins naughtily at him.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

While they are driving home, Gibbs’ phone chirps. It is McGee.

“Boss, we got him, and he didn’t even try to run.”

“Good. Nail him to the wall, McGee.”

“We have all the evidence. His attorney is trying to stonewall us but the DA thinks we’ve got this one.”

“Good work, McGee.”

“Well, there’s one other thing…”

“Spit it out, McGee.”

“Um boss, he’s threatening to be very difficult during the trial. He said, and I quote, ‘I’ll fuck those boys over on the stand again as sure as I fucked them in my house, and they’ll be publicly damaged forever. They'll be forced to recount every single thing I ever did to them for the record in front of the jury’.”

“Goddammit.”

“Yeah. But he said he would confess to everything, waive his rights to an attorney, if Tony speaks to him. One on one.”

“No way.”

“But…”

“I said no, McGee,” Gibbs eyes flicker to Tony who is paying a great deal of attention to his side of the conversation. “He’s not in a good place right now.”

Tony’s eyes narrow. “What does he want?” he demands. “Tell me.”

“Nothing DiNozzo. Face forward. You’re supposed to be going home and resting.”

Amazed at his own daring, Tony grabs the phone away from Gibbs and presses the speaker button. “McGee, you’re on speaker. Tell me what is going on.”

“Um… Boss?” McGee suddenly sounds hesitant.

Tony glares at Gibbs. “I’m not a child. I want to know what’s going on.”

Gibbs sighs. “Tell him McGee.”

So McGee repeats himself and Tony’s hands begin trembling and he starts to breathe hard again. Gibbs stops the car and leans over, taking his hands. “You do not have to do this, Tony,” he tells him, “they have him. He’s done hurting kids. And when he goes to jail, you know what they do to pedophiles…”

“But he’ll make those kids relive it all.”

“He’s going to make you relive it all if you speak to him.”

“But they’re just kids,” he is distressed, eyes burning, lips trembling, “I can’t let him do that to them. I can stop this. He’ll go quietly. If I talk to him. Right, McGee?”

“Yeah, Tony. He even wrote out the confession. He won’t sign it until after he speaks to you and his attorneys are pretty angry about this.”

“Then I have to do this,” Tony says earnestly. “I didn’t stop him all these years, but this is one thing I can do to help spare those boys more pain. I can’t not do it, Boss.”

Gibbs hangs up on McGee and takes Tony into his arms. He holds him close and presses soft, comforting kisses on his face. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Tony,” he tells him, “I hate the thought of you even having to see his picture in the paper. I don’t want to let him talk to you one on one. I don’t want him near you. He doesn’t deserve a conversation with you. It’s not worth it to me to let him hurt you any more than he already has, love. I don’t know if I can stand by and let this happen.”

“I know, Jet. I don’t want to talk to him either. But I can’t let those poor kids suffer anymore. Can you imagine what he could put them through on the stand? They’re children, Jethro! Kids!”

“You were a kid when he did this to you.”

“But I survived it. And if I don’t help these kids, I just – I just don’t even know what that would mean for me. I don’t know how I could ever look at myself in the mirror again. Or how you could look at me. I can’t. I have to do this. You see it right?”

Gibbs nods reluctantly. “Fuck it. I knew you’d do this…” He kisses Tony’s lips and with a moan Tony melts into his arms, opening his mouth, allowing his tongue in, and this time Gibbs kisses him with all the love and comfort that he can convey. They have to stop to breathe.

Tony smiles at him. “Love you, babe.”

“Love you, gorgeous.”

“Can we go back to my place so I can put a suit on? I’ll need to look my best.”

“You need your armor.”

Tony smiles. “Shoulda known you’d know that about me.”

“Call McGee back and tell him we’re on our way.” Gibbs starts the car and turns around, heedless of the honking and braking of other cars.

Tony leaves the phone on speaker and calls McGee back. “It’s us, McGee.”

“Hey, look, I talked to the pervert and he agreed you can bring one person with you. Even an attorney, he said. He’s pretty desperate to talk to you Tony.”

Gibbs looks grimly satisfied, and Tony nods at him. “OK. Well I guess Gibbs and I will be facing the devil soon. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“You sure you don’t want to do this tomorrow when you’re more settled, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asks.

“Nah, I want to get this over with and fall apart after that. Can we do that? I don’t want to wait till tomorrow and get all…” he flutters his fingers and makes a face. “Ducky can sedate me twice in one day and maybe when I wake up it will really all be over.”

“Ducky had to sedate you?” McGee sounds worried.

“Nothing. Never mind. Bye McGeek,” Tony hangs up. He knows that McGee will be on the phone to Bishop and Abby to get the low down on his meltdown. He takes a deep breath. Forget the past meltdown – he has to shore up and be ready to prevent another meltdown. His gut churning, he can’t stop himself from worrying about the meeting with Garrett, everything from what to wear, what to say, how to act, how not to have a meltdown. But at least now Gibbs will be there and he won’t have to do this alone.

He agonizes over which suit to wear while Gibbs speeds to his apartment. In the end, he decides on his best black suit, deciding on black on black – black Zegna suit, black Armani shirt, black Hermes tie, shiny black Ferragamo shoes. After he dresses, he presents himself anxiously to Gibbs.

“Will I do?” he asks jauntily, but Gibbs sees the underlying streak of nervousness and insecurity.

“You'll do. Intimidating,” Gibbs tells him, nodding approvingly. “Super hot. Can’t wait to tear that suit off you later.”

Tony blushes and stammers, until Gibbs pulls him into his arms for a long kiss. “Ready to go?” Gibbs pants breathlessly.

“To bed? Sure. But let’s get this show on the road.” Tony kisses him hard one last time, strokes his Marine’s erection through his pants longingly, and then they walk back to the car, fingers laced together.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the Hoover Building, Tony nods quietly to Sacks who is standing with Fornell. McGee takes in the black-on-black suit of armor and knows that Tony has done his best to prepare for the talk. Gibbs looks about ready to rip heads off.

“He’s waiting for you,” Fornell tells him.

Tony nods. He takes in a deep breath, squares his shoulders, draws himself to his full height and looks at Gibbs. “Let’s do this.”

They walk into the room in their customary positions – Gibbs first, DiNozzo a half step behind him on his six. Once in the interrogation room, Tony sits across from the Senator, posture ramrod straight, and Gibbs stands leaning against the wall behind him.

Senator Garrett Mulroney is a distinguished looking man in his seventies but easily looks a decade younger.

“Anthony bello,” he breathes softly, drinking in the elegantly dressed, handsome man.

“You will address me as Special Agent DiNozzo, Senator Mulroney,” Tony says quietly, looking at him his face completely expressionless. “Please sign and date your confession,” he pushes the notepad across the table.

“Oh my Anthony, how you’ve grown up. You might even be more beautiful now than you ever were, bello mio.”

Tony ignores him and waits expectantly for him to pick up the pen.

“How can it be that your eyes have gotten even greener?” Mulroney stares intently, scrutinizing the younger man. “I’ve followed your life, and your career. Do you know how heartbroken I was when you broke your leg? I would have been so proud to watch you go pro, my Anthony.”

“Senator Mulroney, all I’m here to do is ensure that you sign your confession. Please refrain from any personal references.”

As if Tony hadn’t spoken, Mulroney continues, “and then when you went into law enforcement – you were the youngest to get your gold shield in Baltimore, and your reputation at NCIS is formidable. You’re respected, feared even. You grew up so nicely.”

“No thanks to you,” Tony bit out, his mask slipping for a moment. “Sign your confession, please,” mask back in place.

“Can I touch you?”

“No, you may not touch me. You wanted to speak to me, here I am. Please sign your confession.”

“Please, just your hand,” Mulroney reaches across the table.

“No, you sick fuck!! Hands off!!” Gibbs screams at him in his best drill instructor voice, scaring him back into his seat.

Tony glances at the silver-haired man and quirks an eyebrow at him slightly, a silent thanks. “You heard my boss, please stay seated and keep your hands to yourself. Say what you need to say to me, then sign your confession please.”

“Is that what you think I am? A sick fuck?”

“If the shoe fits, Senator.”

“I loved you, Anthony. I still do. I love you Anthony.”

“What about these other boys. Do you love them too?”

“I was only trying to recreate what we had together. You were perfect. None of them ever were.” Mulroney slips into Italian. “Did you know I even had some Italian lovers, young and beautiful like you were? But they weren’t you, they were always crying and sniveling. You were always brave and strong, and you never ever cried.”

“We will speak in English, Senator,” came the unflappable response.

“Beloved, speak to me as you used to. One more time. For an old man who will go to prison for his sins.”

“Prison is far too good for you, old man,” Tony tells him in Italian. “Sign your confession.”

“I will always love you, Anthony,” Mulroney switches back to English. “More than your father ever did.”

Tony smiles tightly. “Well, that I actually believe, Senator.”

“Did you know that he knew what I was doing to you? With you?”

Tony’s expressionless mask falls back into place. “I suspected it.”

“I paid him for you. He sold you.”

Tony’s mask cracks, and he looks surprised. “Paid for me?” his eyes are wide.

“I paid for your private school, and even paid your favorite cook’s salary. What was her name, Gina, Giada? Gianna! Yes. I paid for your piano lessons. And I paid off some of your father’s debts.”

Tony gasps, before he wrestles the mask of indifference back into place.

“I paid for the doctors to keep the injuries he caused quiet. I spoke to your father about not marking your face or breaking any more bones. I tried to stop him from hurting you too badly, Anthony.”

Tony pales, but keeps his face expressionless.

“I’ve missed you, bello. You were always the one.”

“If you were paying for me, then why did my father send me away?” Tony asks, his voice steady.

Mulroney watches him in silence for a long moment. “I made him do it. He was beating you so badly I thought he would kill you one day. So I made him send you away. To protect you. I paid for all your boarding school fees, uniforms, books, everything. He cut you off completely, did you know that?”

Tony’s eyes are wide and his breaths short shallow pants. He glances at Gibbs, drawing strength from the cool blue eyes.

“I just wanted you to know that I gave you up because I loved you, Anthony,” Mulroney said softly. “If you love them, let them go. But you never returned to me,” he says sadly.

"Why did you write to me? Surely you knew my team would arrest you." Tony can't help asking. He is an investigator after all.

“I tried to put you out of my mind. And then a few weeks ago, I saw you. You were running down the street, and you tackled some guy, you just leaped into the air and brought him down, and you had him handcuffed in one smooth move. I lost it when I saw you, Anthony. I never imagined how graceful you would get when you grew up. I knew then I couldn’t hide my love for you. I had to speak to you again. I had to feel your eyes on me. I had to know you remembered me. I had to _know_ you again. Like I used to know you.”

“I was a child,” Tony manages to say. “You did things to me. Things that no child should have to endure.”

“You were so beautiful, I couldn’t help myself.”

“There were others before me.”

“Yes there were. But I was only learning then. I lost my heart to you and all of them afterwards were pale copies of you. I never found that magic that we had again.”

“But you kept looking nonetheless,” Tony nods and breathes deeply. He pushes the notepad and pen closer. “Sign your confession, Senator. No more children will be hurt.”

"I want to write to you from prison, bello."

"I won't read your letters. I didn't read them in boarding school."

"I'll still write."

"Fine. Sign the confession, Senator."

“Let me hold your hand, and I’ll sign it.”

“No. Sign it. Now.”

“Please, Anthony. I’ve missed you. I sent you away to save you. I always tried to keep you safe.”

“Sign it and I’ll let you touch my hand.” Tony ignores Gibbs’ warning growl.

“Are you happy, Anthony?”

“Not right now, I’m not. I will be once you sign this confession.”

“No, I mean, are you happy with your life? With where you are? Do you love your job?”

“I’m happy, Senator,” he says quietly. “You did save me – my life improved after I was sent away. I have a good life now.”

“I know you’ve found someone,” Mulroney smirks at Gibbs. “Is he what you want?”

“Who I’m with now is none of your concern, Senator. Take the pen. Sign the paper,” Tony calmly holds out the pen.

Mulroney takes it and signs and dates the confession. Tony passes the notepad and pen to Gibbs to confirm, and after Gibbs flicks through and nods, Tony holds out his still-battered left hand, proud that it is steady. “You may touch me now, Senator.”

The senator greedily brings both of his hands and takes Tony’s hand in his. He begins caressing it and pulls it closer, pulling his head down as if to kiss it, and in a flash, Tony’s eyes are spitting angrily and a knife has magically appeared in his right hand, the metallic snick as the blade unfolds is a menacing sound, and slammed point down into the table.

Mulroney jumps back in surprise. “I said touch, Senator. I did not consent to any other contact. If your lips had touched me, that knife would be in your heart. Goodbye.” The words were delivered tonelessly.

Tony yanks his knife out of the table, folds it and slips it into his pocket in one smooth move, and with one final glare at Mulroney, walks out of the interrogation room, Gibbs a half step behind him.

As soon as the door is closed, Tony starts shaking, his knees buckling. Gibbs tosses the notepad and pen to McGee and pulls him into his arms. He buries his face in Gibbs’ chest, eyes burning, refusing to give in to the tears, but unable to stop the other reactions – heart hammering, blood draining, his whole body trembling, gasping for breath, mouth dry.

Fornell, McGee and even Sacks have turned away to try to give him some privacy.

Gibbs ignores everything but the man in his arms, holding him close, whispering words of encouragement, pride, and love. “You did good in there, you got him to sign the confession. You made me so proud. You faced him. You helped those kids. You did good, DiNozzo. So good.”

Finally the shaking stops, his legs are steady enough to bear his weight again, and Tony’s breathing is better. He stands in Gibbs arms, nodding and listening to the words Gibbs is saying. Both of his hands are stuffed in his mouth, and Gibbs gently pulls them away from his face, and runs his fingers through the younger man’s thick hair and over his face.

“You’re OK, you’re safe. You did it. It’s done. It’s finished now. You’ll never see him again. Ever. I promise you that.”

Tony nods silently. He steps away from Gibbs and leans against the wall. His hands are still trembling and now all he can think about is that Garrett touched his hand.

“I have to wash my hand,” he says, holding it away from him disgustedly. “He-he- _touched_ it.”

Fornell tells him that the nearest rest room is down the hall and around the corner and Tony walks away, unable to bear the pity in Fornell’s, McGee’s and even Sacks’ eyes. Gibbs is about to follow him but Fornell needs to speak with him. They stand in the corridor, talking quietly.

“I wanted to throw up when he talked about DiNozzo’s father,” Fornell said angrily.

“That can’t be true, can it?” McGee sounds panicked. “Surely his father wouldn’t have done that.”

“We’re gonna dig into Tony’s past and see who paid those bills, McGee,” Gibbs declares. “And if Senior sold his own son, I’m gonna gut and decapitate that cocksucker.”

“Your Abby will hide the body for you,” Fornell says approvingly.

“And DiNozzo’s father _hit_ him? A child rapist had to send him away to save him from being beaten to death by his own father?” Sacks is furious. “Un-fucking-believable!”

McGee and Gibbs are surprised at Sacks’ fury, he and Tony have always butted heads. This anger on his behalf is uncharacteristic and unexpected.

“What? We rub each other the wrong way and we fight, but he’s a good guy. Don’t ever tell him I said that,” Sacks tells them. 

“I thought you were gonna rip his head off when he touched Tony, Boss.”

“I really wanted to,” Gibbs says grimly. “I really, really wanted to, McGee.” The men continue to speak quietly.

McGee keeps thinking about the question that Mulroney asked Tony, about whether he was happy with his life. Whether he was happy with his special someone. It did not escape McGee’s attention that Mulroney used the pronoun “he” for Tony’s special someone. He is surprised, given Tony’s reputation for being a ladies’ man, but the more he thinks about it, he realizes that Tony has always freely flirted with both men and women. Tony had never broadcasted his interest overtly, at least not in front of McGee, but his mind flashes through scenes where Tony has ogled men or actually been casually interested when a good-looking man expresses interest in him. He also wonders if Mulroney knows who this man is that Tony obviously did not want to talk about. There was someone, McGee was sure of it now. He makes a mental note to ask Abby about this – Abby would know. Abby knows Tony best. Interestingly, he is not actually surprised to learn that Tony is interested in men as well as women. Tony is a hedonist – he has always been open about enjoying sex. What surprises and disappoints him a little is that he himself didn’t actually figure it out before this, and he has known Tony for all these many years. But, given all the things that he has found out about Tony in the past few days, perhaps it is no wonder he doesn’t know him as well as he thinks he does. Tony has been hiding a lot of things for a long time.

Meanwhile, Tony finds the men’s room and proceeds to wash his hands. Then he throws up – mostly bile, he hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast and he's already vomited that – and then he washes his hands a few more times. It makes his skin crawl to keep feeling Mulroney’s touch. He washes his face and runs water over his head. Drying himself, he decides to slip out for some fresh air. He cannot face Fornell or Sacks or McGee. He needs time to get his head on straight. Maybe a few years will do.

He sends McGee a text to let him know he will be waiting for Gibbs on the street and runs down what seems like a million stairs, coming out the side of the building. He leans his legs against the wall, bends over at the waist, hands on his knees, taking big gulping breaths. Being in the sun is helping him. He loosens his tie and unbuttons the top buttons of his shirt, trying to control his breathing.

Then his head explodes with pain and everything goes dark.


	8. Chapter 8

Gibbs begins to get impatient and abruptly walks away from the men to see how Tony is doing. He rounds the corner, walks into the men’s room and does not see Tony in there. He checks every stall, scaring a couple of people, to no avail.

Pulling his phone out, he calls Tony and it rings and rings before it goes to voicemail. Worried, he goes back to Fornell, Sacks and McGee.

“He’s not there,” he tells them, “and he’s not answering his phone.”

“Maybe he just needed some time alone,” Fornell says sympathetically.

McGee checks his phone, meaning to call Tony, and he sees that he’s missed a text from Tony. “Oh, Boss, Tony texted me to tell me he’s waiting for you on the street. I guess he needed fresh air or something.”

Gibbs nods to Fornell and Sacks and tells McGee, “With me.”

They get on the elevator and go downstairs. Gibbs sends McGee around the block in one direction and he goes the other way. When they meet up and neither of them have seen Tony, Gibbs calls Tony’s phone again, which again rings and rings before going to voicemail. Gibbs’ gut begins churning – this does not feel right.

“Trace his phone, McGee,” he orders his junior agent.

“Maybe he just took the bus home or something,” McGee mumbles.

“He wouldn’t do that and not pick up the phone. Not today. Even if he needed air or needed to escape, he wouldn’t have left without telling me.”

Gibbs calls Fornell and asks him to view security camera footage for the exits nearest where they were in the building. McGee locates Tony’s phone – he seems to be moving, probably in a vehicle, and is a few miles away already. By the time they get back upstairs, Fornell has found video of what happened.

They watch as Tony bursts out of the exit stairway door onto the quiet side of the Hoover Building. He is bent over, trying to breathe, loosening his tie, oblivious to his surroundings. Perhaps he is lulled by a sense of security at his proximity to the Hoover Building, he is leaning against FBI Headquarters after all. But they watch as a man hits him in the head, hard, with what looked to be a wrench. Tony goes down and is quickly dragged into the trunk of a car. They cannot see the man’s face clearly, neither can they see the car license plate.

Gibbs and Fornell are running for their car asking McGee to feed them the GPS location of Tony’s phone and Sacks runs through traffic cam footage to try to get a picture of the driver and/or the license plate.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tony slowly comes awake, and the first thing he is aware of is the tremendous pain in his head and an overwhelming urge to throw up. Fortunately he only experiences dry heaves – his stomach is completely empty and nothing will come up, the happy side effect of excessive throwing up in one day. However the movement has amplified his headache and he groans. Right. Trauma to the head. Probable concussion. He has been through this enough times that he can almost diagnose himself without the help of a medical professional.

He blinks his eyes but it remains dark. He is in a dark, cramped space and it is vibrating under his body. He tries to turn his body but cannot – he is in an enclosed space. Trunk of a car, he thinks.

His hands have been restrained with what feels like a zip tie. He feels around – his SIG is not in its holster on his belt. He cannot reach his ankle to check if his backup firearm is still there but he decides he cannot count on it being there since he cannot reach it to confirm. He feels his pockets and surprisingly finds his phone. The phone screen gives him some light when he finally wrestles it out. He calls Gibbs.

“Tony! Are you OK?”

“Uh Boss, I think I screwed up.”

“Where are you? Are you OK?”

“I’m in the trunk of a car. Dunno how I got here. Can’t find my service weapon.”

“Hold tight. McGee is tracking your phone. We’re coming to get you.”

The car brakes and Tony is flung around in the trunk. He groans but keeps hold of his phone. The car seems to be moving slowly and then the engine is shut off.

“Shit, Boss, I think we’re here. Car’s off. Find me soon, Boss. Gotta go.”

Tony slips the phone back into his pocket and finds his knife there, the one he had almost plunged into Mulroney’s chest earlier. It had been a gift from Gibbs a long time ago, and is one of his most precious possessions. It has saved his life on more than one occasion, and it’s handy for eating cowboy style steaks as well. He flicks it open and holds it ready – his captors would probably be opening the trunk soon and he was not planning on going without a fight. He briefly thinks about trying to cut his wrists loose but knew it wouldn’t be done as quickly as he needed it to be done in the dark, in the awkward position that he was in. He made a mental note to practice cutting himself loose from a zip tie while blindfolded and bent in an awkward position.

He hears footsteps outside, and the trunk chirps as it cracks open. He holds the knife firmly, hiding the shiny blade as best he can, and closes his eyes to feign unconsciousness.

When the trunk is cautiously opened, Tony feels himself being dragged out of the trunk and he falls unceremoniously to the ground outside the trunk. Unfortunately the fall causes his head to bounce off the concrete floor. Stars explode underneath his eyelids and he cannot stifle the moan of pain.

“Get up!!!” a man’s voice screams at him. “Get the fuck up, asshole!”

Tony tries to get his eyes to focus but it is difficult. He sees several figures standing before him but he only hears one voice. Still hiding the knife, he pushes himself up, managing to roll himself onto his knees. He begins dry heaving again, the pressure on his head is nauseating.

“I can’t believe it’s really you, Anthony. I can’t believe you’re going to put him in jail after all these years.”

The five men standing in front of Tony finally focuses into only one man – and he looks very much the way Tony remembers Garrett looking from his childhood. And the man was holding his SIG and pointing it menacingly at him.

“Did you know that he gave me up when he found you? He chose you over me. And I’m his flesh and blood. I’m supposed to be his son! I’m the one he’s supposed to love! You’re nothing! You’re just some kid he felt sorry for.”

Tony frowns. “Seth?” he croaks. “Seth Mulroney?”

“Yes, it’s Seth. I just found out that my dad has been corresponding with you lately.”

“If by corresponding, you mean sending me creepy notes and photos, and stalking the bejesus out of me, then yeah, he’s been corresponding with me. It’s not like we’re pen pals or anything.”

"You've arrested him!"

"Well, it's what we do when there is evidence that someone has been breaking the law, and hurting children."

“You ungrateful son of a bitch! He _loved_ you!!!!!” Seth screams at him, spit flying, eyes wild. “I thought he loved _me_ , but then he threw me away for _you_.”

“Um, Seth, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but your father rapes children. I was one of them.”

“It wasn’t rape. It was love. And he loved me for a while. Until he found you.” The venom is unmistakable.

“Wow, Sethie, I think you’re completely delusional. Your father abused you and then he abused me and then he went on to molest and rape a bunch of other little boys.”

“But you’re the one that he loved. I know it. He certainly told me that enough times.”

Tony sighs, shaking his head, trying to clear his vision. “You’re definitely nuttier than a fruitcake Seth,” he says sadly. “But you’ve assaulted and kidnapped a federal agent. That’s not a good thing. Why don’t you let me go, we can talk about it. You’ve obviously been traumatized by your father. I can help you get out of this. You’re a victim too.”

“I have not been traumatized by my father. I’m not a victim. But you’re right, I have assaulted and kidnapped a federal agent. I guess murdering one shouldn’t be that much harder.” And grinning, Seth pulls the trigger. However the gun does not go off – Tony guesses that the safety must still be on. And he cannot help his reaction – it’s been a weird and rough few days – he begins laughing hysterically.

“Oh my god. Seth. Seriously? Maybe there’s a reason why your dad chose me over you. You can’t even get _this_ right? Twelve year old gang bangers do better than you.”

Seth moves closer, raising the gun up high, screaming with rage. As he brings it down full force on Tony’s head, the agent ducks and stabs, impaling the knife up to the hilt in Seth’s thigh. The gun comes down, glancing off of the side of Tony’s head and hitting his shoulder and Tony falls onto the floor with a grunt of pain. Seemingly unaware that a knife is protruding out of his thigh, Seth pulls out a syringe, sticks it in Tony’s neck and depresses the plunger. Then he begins kicking the downed man, hard, vicious kicks – his work boots are steel toed – ignoring the rivers of blood flowing from the knife stuck in his leg. Tony weakly moves to cover his head with his arms and brings his knees to his chest to try to protect himself but he is fast losing consciousness again.

Seth pulls the knife out of his thigh with a scream and is about to use it on the downed agent when his eyes roll back inside his head and he drops to his knees, before falling flat on his face on top of Tony. Blood pools underneath both their bodies.

Gibbs and Fornell burst through the garage door, guns drawn, and when Gibbs sees the two men and the growing pool of blood, he screams Tony’s name and rushes over, ignoring protocol. Fornell calls for an ambulance while he clears the garage and the rest of the house.

Gibbs pushes Seth off of Tony and is relieved when he finds Tony’s pulse. Immediately he pulls the younger man into his arms and looks him over to check for wounds, again relieved to find nothing bleeding. However he cannot rouse Tony, not even when he slaps the downed agent’s cheeks hard and calls his name.

Fornell returns, checks Seth for a pulse and shakes his head. Seth is dead. He also finds Tony’s knife, gun and an empty syringe. Fornell calls Sacks and McGee and asks them to send Ducky and Palmer and crime scene technicians to their location.

“Where the hell is that bus, Fornell. I can’t get him to wake up,” Gibbs growls. He feels two large bumps on Tony’s head.

When the ambulance arrives, they examine Tony and still cannot rouse him.

“He might have been dosed with something,” Fornell tells the EMTs, holding out the syringe which is now in an evidence bag.

The EMTs load Tony into the ambulance and Gibbs goes with him, asking them to be taken to Bethesda so Dr Pitt can monitor Tony’s lungs. In the ambulance, the EMT keeps working on Tony, but he does not regain consciousness. Gibbs holds his hand until he is forced to wait in the waiting room while they whisk Tony away into the Emergency Room. He immediately calls Ducky to request his presence and assistance.

After what feels like hours, McGee arrives and informs him that they have secured the scene, and tells him who Seth is and that Fornell’s people are working on the case since any assault on a federal agent is the FBI’s jurisdiction. Before long, Bishop and Ducky arrive and Ducky immediately goes in to try and find out more information.

As it turns out, Tony is soon moved to a private room. The contents of the syringe has been determined to be ketamine and a large, but thankfully non-lethal dose had been injected into Tony, which is why he could not be awakened. All they can do now is wait for the drugs to work their way out of his system. The doctors are concerned at the interaction between the ketamine and the sedative that Ducky had administered earlier, and the moderate concussion from blunt force trauma. Dr Pitt is monitoring his respiration very closely, in case there are complications, but other than the concussion, several broken ribs, and many deep bruises, Tony is relatively unharmed. CAT scans came back clear – no swelling in the brain.

Gibbs, Ducky, Bishop, Abby and McGee sit in Tony’s hospital room in silence, the only sound is the beeping of the heart monitor. Every fifteen minutes, the machine also takes Tony’s blood pressure. Tony’s pulse ox rate is also being monitored by a clip on his index finger.

Fornell and Sacks arrive and are informed of Tony’s condition.

“What happened in there, Fornell?” Gibbs asks. “Why was Seth dead, and Tony not shot or stabbed?”

“ME says that Seth Mulroney died when he pulled the knife out of his thigh. When Tony stabbed him, he hit the femoral artery. ME thinks that Seth beat the shit out of Tony and then decided to stab him with his own knife. When he pulled the knife out of his leg, he bled out almost immediately,” Fornell explains. “Seth’s fingerprints were on DiNutzo’s gun, including the trigger. He tried to shoot Tony, we think, but the safety was still on.”

“How did he get his hands on ketamine? Isn’t it a horse tranquilizer?” Abby wants to know.

“Seth Mulroney was a veterinarian,” Fornell shrugs.

“The rest of the story we’re going to have to wait till Sleeping Beauty here wakes up,” Sacks gestures to the still form on the bed.

Gibbs growls in response.

“When is DiNutzo supposed to wake up?” Fornell asks.

Ducky sighs. “We aren’t sure yet. I had had to sedate him earlier today and then the ketamine, not to mention all the blows to his head, may have caused complications. It might be soon, it might be a few days. We shall have to wait and see, I’m afraid.”

“What about Senator Mulroney?” Gibbs wants to know.

“He’s been arraigned and is awaiting sentencing. He’s done. Won’t be free for a long time. Might even die in prison, given his age.”

Tony shows no signs of regaining consciousness so by 2100 that night Gibbs sends everyone home. He will, of course, stay with Tony. When he is finally alone in the room with Tony, he leans in and embraces the pale form. He brushes tender kisses on the surprisingly not too battered face, runs his fingers through the younger man’s hair, wishing that he could feel Tony lean into his touch and purr, and quietly begs his oversized kitten to be all right and to wake up soon.

He kisses Tony’s hand and fingers, and then settles in to keep watch through the night, holding Tony’s hand, keeping their fingers interlaced.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first time Tony wakes up, kind of, he becomes aware of the beeping sound. Heart monitor? He must be in a hospital then. His eyelids are very heavy. He doesn’t have the energy to raise them. Plus everything hurt.

Vaguely he hears his name being called. He knows the voice. He cannot place it but he knows he is safe. He loves the voice.

His hand is being held. He squeezes back weakly. But the darkness pulls him back down and he falls into oblivion.

The second time Tony wakes up, the heart monitor sound is still in the background. He feels a hand in his but it is still. He squeezes it gently. His eyelids are too heavy to open, but his entire body hurts, and he moans in pain.

Gibbs, who had fallen asleep with his head on Tony’s bed, their hands clasped together, jumps to his feet when his hand is squeezed and Tony begins moaning. He immediately stands over Tony’s head, holding his hand tightly.

“Tony? Open your eyes, gorgeous. Let me see your eyes.”

Tony moans in response and his long, dark lashes begin fluttering.

“Come on, love. Open your eyes for me.”

“Gibbs?”

“It’s me. Can you open your eyes for me?”

“Hurts… S’eepy.”

“I know, but can you open your beautiful eyes for me? I need to see you in there.”

Tony works hard and finally manages to open his eyes, tiny, narrow slits. “Jethro?” he rasps.

“Atta boy, gorgeous. Can you open them some more?”

Tony slowly blinks and finally his eyelids open half mast and he squints through his eyelashes at Gibbs. “Babe,” he smiles tiredly. “Happened?”

“You’re in the hospital. You’re safe. Want something to drink?” Gibbs presses the button to call the nurse.

Tony nods and the pain in his head magnifies tenfold. He cannot stifle the whimper of pain. Gibbs brings a cup of water with a straw which he sucks on greedily.

“I’m going to call your doctor, OK. Don’t go back to sleep yet. He’ll want to talk to you.”

“Hursss,” Tony whispers.

“I’m sorry, love. They’re coming to help you, OK? Hang in there…” Gibbs helps him drink some more and gently puts his hand on Tony’s cheek and runs his fingers through Tony’s hair, carefully petting him.

Tony sighs and leans into the touch. Gibbs smiles when the younger man begins purring as he continues to stroke Tony’s head, being very careful to avoid the bumps at the back and the side of his head.

“Babe…” Tony whispers.

“Yeah, gorgeous,” Gibbs leans down.

“Love…y…” he flashes a shadow of that smile that stops Gibbs heart again.

“Love you too,” Gibbs whispers back.

“S’eepy,” Tony complains, pouting. A nurse comes in, smiling to hear Tony’s voice.

“Agent DiNozzo, nice of you to join us. Your doctor will be here shortly. Can you try to stay awake for a few minutes?”

“N-no,” Tony whispers, the ghost of a teasing smile on his face as he keeps his half-opened eyes on Gibbs’ blue ones.

The nurse is an attractive brunette, in her thirties, who moves around Tony, checks the machinery and stops to stand in Tony's line of sight. “Hello Agent DiNozzo. I have to ask you some questions.”

“Concussion?” Tony manages to ask slowly, his eyes still on Gibbs.

“Yep.”

“Shot?”

“Nope. Concussion, broken ribs, lots of bruises.”

Tony frowns, probing his memory. Everything is hazy. He remembers speaking with Garrett. He remembers Garrett touching him, His stomach turns. His head hurts even more and it is impossible to keep his eyes open. The darkness beckons.

“DiNozzo!” his eyelids snap open automatically at the barked sound of his name.

“Boss?” he mutters. “Loud. Ow.”

“Sorry Tony, we need you awake.”

The nurse starts asking questions and Tony correctly tells her his name, the year, the president’s name, his home address. He eventually turns his eyes on her, and she cannot help smiling at the very attractive man. He manages a fleeting grin at her then closes his eyes, losing his battle with consciousness.

After the nurse leaves, Gibbs is about to sit down when Tony squeezes his fingers.

“Happened?” he whispers, not bothering to open his eyes. “Garrett?”

“He’s been arraigned. No bail. You got him to sign his confession.”

“Touched my hand,” Tony sounds disgusted.

“You let him,” Gibbs said soothingly. “Saved some little boys the pain of a trial.”

“Yeah. Then…?”

“Do you remember what happened after?”

The silence stretches and just when Gibbs thinks Tony must have gone back to sleep, and he starts to sit back down, Tony cracks his eyes open again, just a little.

“Seth?” he asks. “Got me. Careless. My fault.”

“Stop,” Gibbs tells him, “you’d had a hell of a day. You shouldn’t have been alone.”

“You get him?”

“No, he was dead when we got there.”

“D-dead?” Tony squints up at Gibbs, frowning, wracking his brain, scouring his memory. “You shoot him?”

“Nope. When Fornell and I got there, he was lying on top of you and you were both in a pool of his blood.” Gibbs shudders at the memory. He doesn’t tell Tony how he almost fell apart, thinking Tony was dead.

“H-how?”

“You stabbed him. Nicked his femoral artery. He pulled the knife out and that was it for him.”

“Fuck,” Tony says softly, remembering stabbing Seth in the thigh. “Stupid son of a bitch. Safety on. Couldn’t shoot me.”

“Thank god. I’m glad he was stupid.”

Tony grins tiredly. “Kiss?”

Gibbs leans down and captures his lips in a gentle kiss. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, you hear me?”

“Hear you.”

Gibbs kisses him again and then holds him close for a long minute.

“Babe?”

“Yeah, gorgeous.”

“…can’t hold on…sorry…” he trails away. “So sleepy.”

“Go on. Sleep then.”

“S-stay?”

“No place else I’d rather be. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“K…”

Gibbs leans down, kisses Tony’s forehead and strokes his hair. Eyes closed, the younger man leans into his touch and purrs before letting the darkness take him. Gibbs smiles at his reaction to him, drops a gentle kiss to the full lips, and settles back down on his chair, keeping Tony’s hand in his. Sighing, he puts his head on the bed, his other hand on Tony’s thigh, closes his eyes, and goes to sleep.

Unbeknownst to either man, they had not been alone in the room that night. In a chair in a dark corner, Ducky had been dozing and had awakened when Gibbs sprang up. He witnessed the exchange of endearments and physical intimacies between the two men. After both had settled back down, he smiles to himself. Finally! He had thought they were meant for each other for years. He would find out more about them in time, but for now he was pleased that Tony had regained consciousness with no serious ill effects from the blows to the head, and that the two men were not trying to hide what they felt from each other.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the morning, McGee picks Abby up to drive her to the hospital to see her two favorite men. Ducky has called to inform them that Tony had woken up in the middle of the night and seemed to be fine during all the concussion checks.

Without preamble, McGee blurts out his questions to Abby.

“Abby, did you know Tony’s met someone?”

“What? What do you mean? Someone like who? Tony meets lots of people.”

“A special someone. I thought you would know. He tells you everything.”

“Weeellll he usually does but I don’t know anything about him being with anyone right now. Maybe he hasn’t gotten around to telling me yet. But how would you know?”

“Mulroney said he was yesterday. He didn’t deny it.”

Abby shrugs. “Well, he’ll tell me about it when he’s ready then. You know how he is – when it’s real and means something to him, he’ll hide it for a while until he’s come to terms with it himself.”

“Abby…?”

“What? I’m telling you, I really don’t know who this new person is!”

“Abby, you said ‘person’, so you know Tony…”

“What? Tony what?”

“He, um, swings both ways?”

Abby laughs. “Oh Timmy, you gotta see your face when you said that.”

“But you’re not denying it.”

“You gotta ask Tony himself, Timmy,” Abby says gently.

“I don’t have any problems with it. I’m just kind of amazed that I didn’t know this about him all these years.”

“Well, again, you should be having this conversation with Tony,” Abby says pointedly. “All I will say about this subject is that when we used to go clubbing in our mis-spent youths, we always had some crazy times and he always attracted attention.”

“You guys haven’t gone clubbing lately?”

Abby laughs. “Not for a few years now, Timmy. I still go at times, but Tony hasn’t in a while. He’s claiming that he’s all grown up and done with the club scene.”

“It’s a little bit scary to think of a grown up Tony,” McGee frowns.

“I know. But we all have to grow up some time.”

“I still think of Kate, calling him an X-rated Peter Pan.”

Abby laughs. “Well, he’s still that, no question.”

“Given his actual childhood, I’m kind of glad he got to be a kid around us, you know? Sounds like he never got to be a kid when he was one.”

Abby sighs. Thinking of everything Tony had gone through as a child just makes her want to cry. Witnessing his meltdown and the post-sedative admission of being fucked up had almost been too much to bear. “I just want him to be OK, Timmy.”

“He’s fine, Ducky said so. No major injuries, and he was awake and coherent last night. And coherent's always difficult for Tony on a good day.”

When they walk into Tony’s room, they see that he’s asleep, and to their surprise Gibbs is not just sitting and dozing in his chair like he usually does, but has put his head down on the bed and is sleeping pretty soundly. Ducky is in a chair in the corner and he stands up and smiles when they come in.

The smell of the coffee that Abby has wakes Gibbs up. He raises his head, blinking blearily. Abby thrusts the coffee cup in front of him and he takes it gratefully.

“How’s our boy?” Abby whispers.

“He’s doing well,” Ducky says quietly. “Sleeping and not drugged now.”

Abby goes over and drops a kiss on Tony’s temple. She notices that although Gibbs is awake and sipping his coffee, his other hand is still on Tony’s and that their fingers are interlaced.

“Does he remember much of what happened after he was taken?” McGee wants to know.

Gibbs makes a face. “He remembers enough. Not much past the ketamine but most of what happened before. Fornell will be here to get his statement soon.”

“It’s not nice to talk about someone like they’re not even there,” Tony’s sleepy voice surprises them. His eyes are still closed and his breathing hasn’t changed, other than speaking he looks like he could still be sleeping. “And do I smell coffee?”

“If you opened your damned eyes you’d see I have coffee,” Gibbs tells him.

“If I had coffee maybe I’d pry my damned eyes open, Boss,” Tony retorts, smirking. “Plus since when do you not have coffee?”

“It’s good to hear you being yourself this morning, Tony,” McGee tells him.

Tony sighs dramatically. “I guess if you guys are here I’d better make the effort,” his eyelids flutter and he finally squints around the room. Gibbs helps raise the bed so he is sitting up.

“How are you feeling, Tony?” Abby climbs on the bed and hugs him gently, being careful of his ribs and bruises. She presses kisses on his temple and cheek.

“I’m fine,” came the predictable answer.

“By fine he means he’s in a shitload of pain,” Gibbs translates. Tony shoots him a glare.

“I just want to go home. Ducky, am I being sprung today?” Tony turns to the elderly gentleman.

“I’ll check with Bradley but I do believe you should be able to go home today, but only if someone stays with you.”

“Well, Tony’ll go stay with the Bossman for a few days, right?” Abby smiles.

“Where else would he go?” Gibbs growls.

Tony winces as he moves too quickly and immediately Gibbs is attentive. Tony refuses more pain medication. “Nope. I want to go home today and I don’t want to be all loopy. You know how I get with pain meds,” he insists.

“We all find you on pain meds highly amusing, though,” Abby tells him, patting his hand soothingly.

“We brought you a hot chocolate,” McGee holds the cup out to Tony. He smiles gratefully and takes the cup, breathing in the aroma of chocolate.

“Marshmallows?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow at McGee.

“Of course.”

The smile he is treated to is brilliant. “Thank you.”

Dr Brad Pitt arrives soon and confirms that Tony will be released that afternoon. No lasting effects. Stern warnings to use his inhalers, keep himself physically fit, do his breathing exercises, take it easy until the ribs are healed. No field work for a few weeks.

Palmer and Bishop arrive soon and after chatting for a while, Palmer drives Abby and Ducky to work, leaving Gibbs, Tony, McGee and Bishop. Then Fornell and Sacks arrive to take Tony’s statement.

Tony recounts what he remembers and answers their questions as best he can.

“Did he say why?” Fornell asks. “It didn’t seem like he had a plan. He just saw an opportunity and just took you. Was he his father's accomplice?”

“No, I left myself open yesterday. Careless. Seth wasn’t in on it with his father. He took me because he hated me. Because he was the kid his father abused before me. Except I think Seth liked it or at least thought it validated his existence, and didn’t like me replacing him,” he shudders, “Seth was pretty deranged. I don’t think he thought anything through. He left me my phone and my knife. So I would guess he saw me and took a chance. Didn’t plan anything. How did the Senator take the news?”

“He was sad about his son and concerned for your safety,” Sacks said.

Tony shuddered again. All of a sudden he is almost overcome by exhaustion. Gibbs can see that he is nearing the end of his rope and shuts the session down pretty quickly.

“You might want to avoid the news for a while,” Fornell tells him.

“Um, my name’s not in it, is it?”

“No, but ZNN and all of the channels are full of coverage about the scandal with Senator Mulroney, and the death of his son. Lots of speculation. Just thought you might want to spare yourself that.”

"I'll need my knife back. It's a great knife," Tony says.

"Shouldn't be too long before we can release your knife back to you."

Tony nods, then finally screws up the courage to ask his burning question. “Did he tell the truth?” Tony asks hesitantly.

“What do you mean?”

“Did Garrett pay for me?”

McGee clears his throat. “I dug up the records, Tony, and it looks like all your boarding school bills went directly to him and not to your father. There are records of payments he made to your father from a few years before you were sent away as well.”

Tony closes his eyes, trying to shut out the pain. “Can I have a minute please?” he asks everyone, proud that his voice is steady.

They all make their excuses and shuffle out, Tony keeping his eyes averted from everyone. Gibbs stands there and waits till Tony looks at him.

“You want me to go?” he asks.

Tony shakes his head, “Stay,” he whispers as his eyes fill with tears.

Gibbs carefully sits on the bed and lets Tony burrow his face into his chest, his arms around the younger man, holding him gently. For a few minutes, he holds Tony while he cries silent tears, wetting Gibb’s shirt. Then Tony pulls himself together, dries his eyes and blows his nose in some tissues.

“What a fucked up mess,” he finally says. Gibbs arms are still around him, and although he feels ashamed of the tears, he can’t help but allow himself to take the support that Gibbs is offering. “I always thought he knew what was going on but was too drunk to do anything about it. But he made money off of me, Jethro. He let a pedophile pay him for me. And then the pedophile sends me away from him for my own good. How the fuck do I even deal with that?”

“Talking about it’s a start,” Gibbs tells him.

“I can’t look at him right now. Maybe not ever,” Tony says quietly. “I thought with him moving to DC and us trying to repair our relationship that we were going somewhere finally. We’ve made such good progress, Jet. We have. But now I can’t. I don’t want to. This is too much for me to take. Surely I don’t need to make the effort now? Why do I feel like I still should give my father a chance? I don’t know what to do or think, and I don’t just want to react in anger.”

“You should do whatever you want, love. If you’re done with him, then I’ll do everything in my power to keep him away from you. If you want to confront him, I’ll stand with you. If you want to keep your relationship as it is, I’ll do my best not to strangle him when he’s around. Whatever you want to do, I’ll back you. You don’t have to decide right now.” It takes every bit of self-control for Gibbs not to declare that he is going to hunt down and kill Tony’s father, as he realizes that Tony needs to feel in control of this situation.

"And if I want to kill him?"

"I'll help you hide the body and get Abby to help us as well," Gibbs answers without hesitation.

Tony takes a deep shuddering breath, and nods. Gibbs drops tender kisses on his face until the younger man meets his gaze.

“Your problems are my problems now,” Gibbs’ eyes are serious. “I protect what’s mine. I’ll do whatever you want and need me to do.”

Tony’s green eyes are large and solemn as he thanks Gibbs and kisses him, a long, slow, deep kiss that expresses his gratitude and love. After they pull apart, he smiles that smile that is Gibbs’ and only Gibbs’. “Love you, babe,” he says softly.

“Love you too, gorgeous.”

Tony blushes at Gibbs’ name for him. “Better quit that or everyone will know,” he grins. “If I called you babe, you can just head slap me and everyone will forget about it. You keep calling me that and there won’t be any misunderstandings.”

“Maybe I don’t want any misunderstandings.”

“Give us a little time together first?”

“Whatever you want.”

Tony smiles. “I just want to get out of here and get back to a semblance of normalcy and forget my father and Garrett. I want to go back to work. Solve some cases. Maybe spend some time together.”

“Definitely spend some time together,” Gibbs tells him. “I think we’ve danced around each other long enough.”

Tony nods and sighs. “Still not done with me yet?”

“Never be done with you. Get that through your head.”

“Got it. Might need reminders sometimes.”

“I’ll remind you.”

Tony allows everyone back in, and conversation stays safely away from the subject of Tony’s father after that. Fornell and Sacks make their excuses and leave soon. Bishop and McGee step out to get take out for lunch and Gibbs urges Tony to take a nap as he is looking tired.

“I don’t want to take a nap. I want to go home,” Tony looks mutinous.

“It’ll make the time go faster if you slept.”

“Stop being so reasonable.”

“So, close your eyes and relax. Your probies will be back with food soon and then Brad’ll get you released.”

“Bed’s lonely,” Tony pouts. “I want to go home and sleep there and stuff. With you.”

Gibbs smiles at him, blue eyes twinkling. “You’re in no shape for stuff.”

Tony leers at him. “I’m always in shape for ‘stuff’,” he rakes his eyes over his Marine lustfully.

“That’s enough,” Gibbs begins blushing at the scrutiny. “Take a nap.”

Tony sighs and leans back for a moment. Then he gets off the bed, refusing any assistance to walk to the head and when he gets back on the bed, he scoots over and makes room. “Sit with me for a few minutes?”

Gibbs cannot resist Tony’s pleading eyes, and grins as he settles down on the bed and puts an arm around the younger man. Tony leans his head on Gibbs’ shoulder and sighs. Gibbs begins petting the younger man’s head, loving the fact that Tony always ends up purring when he does this.

“You’re like an overgrown kitten,” he tells him.

“Hmm?” Tony asks sleepily.

“You always purr when I do this,” he pets the soft brown hair.

“I’m not a kitten,” Tony purrs, leaning into the touch.

“Sure you are.”

“Crazy talk.”

“Stop purring then.”

Tony smiles up at Gibbs. “I’m not purring.”

Gibbs rubs his head and runs his fingers through his hair, and Tony keeps purring. “What do you call that then?”

“I’m more like a lion. I roar.”

“You do that, too,” Gibbs agrees with him.

“I never purr.”

“You’re purring now.”

“Whatever.” Tony enjoys the contact (and continues purring) until he pulls away regretfully. Gibbs kisses his lips, caresses Tony’s cheeks and gets off the bed with a sigh.


	9. Chapter 9

That evening, there is another team gathering at Gibbs’ since Tony has been released from the hospital and been told to stay home until Monday. McGee and Bishop have been asked to stop at Tony’s apartment to pick up some of his things so he can be comfortable at Gibbs’ over the weekend.

Abby is the first to arrive and enters through Gibbs’ unlocked door, bringing drinks and dessert. She stows the drinks in the fridge and leaves the chocolate cake on the counter, and heads down to the basement. Gibbs is working on his boat but there is no sign of Tony.

Abby hugs Gibbs then asks where Tony is.

“He’s taking a nap,” Gibbs tells her.

Abby starts for the stairs, “I want to see him.”

“Let him rest, Abs. He’s done in.”

“I’ll be as quiet as a mouse, I promise.” Abby clatters up from the basement, takes her noisy boots off and tiptoes up the stairs to the second floor. She checks the guest bedroom and the hallway bathroom but doesn’t see Tony. The guest bedroom doesn’t even look like it’s been slept in. She runs back down to the basement.

“Bossman, I think he’s made a run for it,” she tells him. “He’s not upstairs anywhere. He couldn’t have been taken again, could he?”

“What?” Gibbs puts down the sander, stops to grab his gun, and runs upstairs with Abby on his heels. He bursts into the master bedroom and scares Tony who awakens, jumping up from his comfortable position, propped up on pillows, to bouncing on the balls of his feet, his Sig in his hand, ready to back Gibbs up.

“He’s right here, Abby,” Gibbs tells her grumpily.

“What the fuck?” Tony’s heart is pounding and he’s confused and unsure of what is going on and where he should aim his weapon. “Who’s here?”

“You are. Stand down, DiNozzo,” Gibbs tells him.

“What?” Tony obeys the order, lowers his gun and he groans, putting one hand on his ribs. “Ow. What is going on?”

“I looked in the guest bedroom for him, Gibbs. I didn’t check in here,” Abby’s eyes are huge. Tony is dressed only in boxers and had been napping in Gibbs’ bed. His ribs have been wrapped tightly. She can see all the bruises on his body. “Oh my god, Tony. Look at what he did to you!”

“Put some clothes on, you’re practically naked. It’s almost dinner time,” Gibbs orders Tony. “Abby, he’s fine.”

“I’m fine, Abs,” Tony looks around and Gibbs hands him his go-bag. He puts his service weapon down and disappears into the bathroom. “And I have boxers on. I'm not naked.”

“Gibbs, what’s Tony doing in your bedroom?” Abby asks. “And why _is_ he practically naked?”

“Just go on downstairs. I’m gonna give him a hand before he hurts himself.”

“I heard that!” came the indignant response from the bathroom. “I’ll have you know I’ve been dressing myself since I was at least fourteen!”

Gibbs grins. “Later, OK, Abs?”

Abby stares at Gibbs for a moment, then nods and leaves. Smiling, Gibbs opens the bathroom door. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to keep this quiet for much longer.”

Tony grins at him. “Is that why you sent her up here?”

“I didn’t even think about it. She wanted to look in on you and I told her to be quiet and not to wake you up. Then she couldn’t find you. It didn’t even occur to me that she wouldn’t have looked in this room for you. We thought maybe you got kidnapped again.”

Tony smirks. “Let’s hope I don’t get kidnapped again for another couple of years.”

“Never again,” Gibbs tells him, putting his arms around him. “You OK? You bounced out of that bed like a jack in the box. Had to have hurt.”

“Ribs are kind of achy now,” Tony admits. “My heart’s still pounding. I thought we had to defend ourselves from stuff. Terrorists and shit.”

“Just Abby.” Carefully, Gibbs helps Tony into a t-shirt and sweat pants. “She’s right though, Seth did a number on you.”

“Eh, I’ve had worse beatings,” Tony brushes a kiss on Gibbs lips. “Stop worrying. Are we having pizza tonight?”

“I dunno. The team decided on stuff. You’re OK with Abby knowing about us? She’s going to ask questions.”

“It’s fine. Maybe if the team knows, we’ll finally get some privacy,” Tony rolls his eyes. “What about you? Are you OK with Abby knowing?”

“I don’t care who knows, gorgeous.”

Tony smiles and blushes, dipping his head a little. “Let’s go then.”

When they get downstairs, Abby is sitting on the sofa, eyes filled with questions. Nobody else has arrived.

“Guys, what’s going on?”

Gibbs helps Tony settle down on the sofa and fusses until Tony smacks his hand away. “For fuck’s sakes. I’m fine,” he says impatiently. Abby’s eyes widen at Tony’s easy familiarity with Gibbs as well as his use of profanity, which he almost never does in front of Gibbs. Gibbs sits on the sofa next to Tony and both men look at Abby.

“Weellll,” Tony draws out the word, then draws a blank. Then he gives Gibbs a look. Gibbs rolls his eyes and opens his mouth.

“Oh my god. You guys are together??? Like together, together???!?” Abby squeals, interrupting them. “Oh my godddd!!!! This is awesome! I didn’t know you were into men, Bossman!”

Tony shakes his head and grins.

“I should have known you two would get together! You’re Tony’s new hot guy! You guys are soooo hot together! My silver fox and my handsome devil! Although of course, Gibbs, you’re a handsome devil too. Oh man, this is the best thing ever! How long have you two been together? Tony! You never told me you had a thing for the Bossman or I so would have tried to do something about this years ago! I have so many questions I don’t even know what to ask first!”

“Calm down, Abs,” Gibbs tells her. “We only just got together so can you keep this to yourself for now? We’ll tell everyone at some point. When we’re more settled.”

Tony puts his finger on Abby’s lips as she opens her mouth again. “Shhh Abby. I promise I’ll tell you more stuff. But not tonight. Can we get through this dinner first? Give us time to get used to there being an ‘us’ and then we’ll let everyone know. Can you do that for us?”

Abby nods her head silently, her eyes widened in joy. She smiles, and jumps up and down, clapping her hands. She hugs and kisses Gibbs with gusto and repeats the gestures much more gently on Tony, then jumps up and down again, clapping her hands and squealing with glee.

Gibbs shakes his head, gives Tony a quick peck on the lips and heads to the kitchen. He brings back beers for the three of them and hands Tony three Advils. Tony thanks him and downs the capsules with his beer.

The rest of the evening pass without further drama, and is just filled with the usual fun and banter. At the end of the evening, Ducky escorts Tony upstairs to give him a checkup, and hides a smile when he sees that Tony has been settled into Gibbs’ room and bed. Gibbs and Ducky talk Tony into taking real painkillers as he seems to be in pain, and Tony is tired and his head and his body did hurt quite a bit so he gives in. Besides, when Gibbs looks at him mournfully with those beautiful blue eyes of his, he is hard pressed to say no to anything.

That night, before the drugs knock him out, Gibbs is treated to a loopily loving Tony who jumps from topic to topic, but all of them are related to Gibbs – how much he loved Gibbs’ blue eyes and silver hair, how sexy he looked in his new non-polo shirt updated wardrobe, how sexy he used to looked before in his old clothes, how sexy he looked without clothes on, how much he loved Gibbs’ company, how much he loved being with Gibbs, how amazing it was that Gibbs could build boats and things with his hands (amazing boat-making fingers finging?) – all the while his hands are roaming over the older man, lightly touching and caressing him. When Tony finally falls asleep, Gibbs is more than half aroused and definitely frustrated, but he loves that all the loopy hopped-up on pain meds Tony can talk about is him and how much he loves him. He runs his fingers through Tony’s brown hair and smiles when he even purrs in his drugged sleep. Silly kitten.

He takes the shirt and sweatpants off Tony and tucks him in. Then he goes around the house, turning all the lights off and even locking the front door. Given the close call with Seth Mulroney, Gibbs does not want to take any chances that anybody from either of their pasts could come in and do anything to interrupt their fledgling relationship.

Smiling, he goes up to bed, strips, and crawls in beside Tony. He smiles at the beautiful man sleeping in his bed, pets his head to hear him purr again, then curls up carefully next to him. Predictably, Tony turns to him, puts his head on the older man’s chest, his arm around the broad chest and throws one leg in between his.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the morning, Gibbs has to fight off an amorous Tony.

“Come on, I even brushed my teeth for you this morning,” Tony whines.

“No! Brad said you need to rest.”

“He also said I need to keep fit. I can’t go running yet, or spar with you. So let’s do this. Please?”

“Tony, be serious. You're recovering from a concussion. You have broken ribs and you’re turning all kinds of funky colors because of the bruises.”

“But…”

“No. This is for your own good.”

“I want you,” Tony whispers huskily in Gibbs’ ear while he runs his fingers down the older man’s chest, teasing and tugging at his nipple as he traces his way further down. “I need you, Jethro.”

Gibbs shudders and moans when Tony begins kissing his neck, warm wet kisses. He gasps when Tony sucks hard at the sensitive spot below his ear, and his fingers move down and skim his cock.

“Stop,” he whispers, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’ll hurt me if we don’t do this,” Tony tells him, pulling Gibbs hand and placing it on his own erect cock. “Please, babe. I need you. I really need you." Meanwhile his hands have pulled Gibbs’ dick out of his boxers and is stroking it. “Trust me, we can do this without me having to do too much.”

With Tony’s hands on his cock, Gibbs cannot remember why this is a bad idea, he begins pumping into Tony’s hand and breathing erratically. When Tony’s lubed finger begins working its way into his anus, the older man sheds his boxers and succumbs. He doesn’t even know when Tony managed to lube himself but when Tony works a second and then a third finger in and begins brushing his prostate with a curled finger, he is incapable of thought and thrusts himself into Tony’s fingers, moaning and begging for release.

“Lube me up, Jethro,” Tony’s husky voice tells him and Gibbs leans down to first lick and suck on Tony’s cock. Then he lubes him up and strokes him. Tony finally takes his hands away to stop him “Don’t make me come yet,” he tells him. Then he guides Gibbs to straddle him (he is comfortably propped up against a mound of pillows), and Gibbs slowly impales himself, moaning hard. “Ride me, babe,” Tony tells him, and so Gibbs does. He moves himself up and down, controlling the pace and the angle and when he finds the right angle where his prostate is stroked, he almost loses control. He begins riding Tony hard, ensuring that Tony’s cockhead brushes his prostate with every stroke. Tony strokes his leaking cock in time with the frenzied rhythm and before long Gibbs is falling over the edge, calling out Tony’s name as thick jets of cum shoots onto his belly. Tony thrusts up one last time and finds his own release with a growl.

Gibbs is careful not to put any weight on Tony’s broken ribs, rolling off him, loving the moan of protest from the younger man when Tony slips out of his body. He lies next to him and curls protectively around him. Tony turns his face towards him and he kisses Tony hard.

“Is that what you wanted?” he pants out.

“Yes,” Tony replies, smiling. “Fuck yeah.”

“I’m beginning to see why they called you ‘Sex Machine’.”

Tony laughs, and winces, hand on his ribs.

“Did I hurt you?” Gibbs is immediately concerned.

“Worth every fucking twinge of pain,” Tony kisses him again. “Didn’t even feel it. Too busy feeling you on my dick. Thank you sir, may I have another?”

Gibbs gives him a gentle headslap, mindful of the concussion. “You ass! I could have seriously hurt you! Can you imagine telling Brad why you had to be readmitted? Because I fucked you so hard that your ribs got re-broken?”

“You could have said no, babe,” Tony is irrepressible. “Besides, I think _I_ fucked _you._ Or maybe we kind of fucked each other. I don’t know. My brain is fried. You just fucked my brains out.”

Gibbs laughs. “Oh my god. I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“Just say you love me,” suddenly Tony’s eyes are serious and intense.

Gibbs stares into those eyes, and he knows that his is filled with love for this man in his bed. “I love you,” he says, his heart overflowing with emotion. This feeling that he hasn’t felt since his girls died.

“And I love you,” Tony declares solemnly. They kiss. Gibbs kisses his way down to Tony’s chest, running his hands through the smattering of hair, and kissing his way down to Tony’s heart.

“Mine,” Gibbs says, and kisses Tony’s heart.

Tony nods, “Yours,” he agrees, and puts his hand on Gibbs heart. “Mine.”

“Yours,” Gibbs smiles at him.

They stopped to gaze at each other, blue eyes meeting green. “When did we turn into a couple of saps?” Tony smiles, breaking the serious mood.

“Shut up and kiss me, dumbass.” And so Tony does.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Abby turns up for dinner and a movie. McGee and Bishop had brought Tony’s portable DVD player. After they eat, Gibbs helps Tony settle down in the living room, then kisses both Tony and Abby, before retreating to the basement. He knows that Abby needs to reconnect with Tony and there will be questions. These are questions best left to Tony since he and Abby have that kind of a relationship.

Abby and Tony are curled up, arms around each other on the couch. The DVD player is on Abby’s knee. They are watching _Independence Day_ , a movie they both know by heart. Abby barely even waits for the opening credits to be over before she turns to Tony.

“So, spill,” she demands.

Tony grins softly. “It just kind of happened.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Officially, a few days. Technically? Forever,” Tony breathed, and turns his eyes on Abby. “I’ve always been attracted to him. I just never thought he’d ever look at me like that, you know?”

“God, this is so romantic,” Abby squeals. “And what about him? How long has he been into men? He’s pretty good at hiding it. I’ve never seen him check any guy out.”

“It’s only me he has eyes for, he says,” Tony admits, blushing.

“Oh my god! You’re so cute when you’re in love, Tony,” she squeezes his hands. “I can tell. You are in love with Gibbs.”

Tony nods, his blush deepening. “I am. Have been for a long time.”

“And Gibbs loves you?”

Tony shrugs and nods. “I can hardly believe it. I mean, I’m me. And he’s well, he’s Gibbs. But he says he thought the way I took him down and cuffed him in Baltimore was sexy.”

“Oh my god! The Bossman thinks you’re sexy!” Abby squeals even louder.

“Shhhh, he’s right downstairs.”

“Of course he loves you. I can’t believe you’re putting yourself down like that, mister. You’re a catch. Bossman is lucky to have you.”

“I’m the lucky one, Abs,” Tony admits quietly. “No question.”

“I’m so happy for you both,” Abby’s eyes fill with happy tears. “You guys were made for each other. You’ve had each other’s sixes all these years, and you know each other better than anybody does. You’re perfect for each other.”

Tony shrugs. “I think we are,” he agreed with a smile.

“Oh god, Tony, you really are adorable when you’re in love,” Abby pinches his cheeks gently. “Man, you guys are so hot together. Seriously. What a power couple. You’re like Mr and Mr Smith, except you’re not spies. I bet you’re having the best sex ever too! All those years of pent up emotion!”

“Abby!” Tony turns tomato red.

“Shit, you’re blushing so much Tony. So, best sex ever, and you love him, and he loves you. Damn, I really want to watch you guys. Can I watch? Please?”

“Stop it,” Tony covers his face, shaking with laughter. “Ow, don’t make me laugh, it hurts,” he complains. He shushes her when he hears Gibbs’ footfall coming up the stairs. “Stop Abby, stop. No, you can’t.”

“What’s she want, gorgeous?” Gibbs asks as he opens the fridge and pulls out a beer. He gestures, a silent question, _want another drink?_ And Tony shakes his head no to the drink. Tony looking embarrassed, his face and ears completely red.

“Um, nothing, babe,” Tony squeaks out, laughing helplessly as Abby punches his arm.

“You guys are too adorable! With your pet names and everything,” Abby gushes.

“Tell her she can’t watch,” Gibbs says as he goes back down the basement steps, and Tony groans and laughs, holding his aching ribs.

“You heard the man,” he tells her finally, “you can’t watch. There.”

“Aw boo, spoilsports,” Abby pouts. They silently watch the movie for a few minutes. “What about work?”

“What _about_ work? We’re going to maintain the status quo. I’m still his Senior Field Agent. We’ve been together as partners and colleagues for fifteen years and I don’t see us changing how we work now.”

Abby nods. “Makes sense. Good to separate work and home life. And NCIS doesn’t have any issues with interoffice relationships. You’re gonna have to tell Vance though. Full disclosure and all that.”

Tony shrugs. “We don’t want to keep this secret, Abs. It’s just so new now. We only kissed for the first time a few days ago. It’s kind of nice to just be, right now, you know? And enjoy being with each other in a different way and not have to worry about what other people think for now.”

“A much hotter, sexier way of being with each other.”

“I don’t disagree, but seriously Abs, you still can’t watch.”

“A girl can dream.”

Tony laughs. “Thank you for being you, Abs,” he tells her.

“I love you, Tony,” she says simply, “and I’m so friggin’ happy for you. You’re practically glowing. Did you know that? You seem so content now, which is a word I have never used to describe you. You deserve this, and so does Gibbs.”

“Love you too, Abs,” Tony hugs her and kisses her temple. “You’re the bestest friend I could have ever asked for.”

“McGee suspects you’re in a relationship with a man,” Abby tells him.

“Really? He seem OK with it?”

“Yeah, he was cool with it. I’ll let him talk to you about that himself. But I thought I should warn you that that conversation might be coming.”

“Oh Probie,” Tony shakes his head.

“What are you guys going to do?”

Tony is used to Abby’s mind, and subject changes, and tangents. “Who? Me and McGeek or me and Gibbs? And do about what?” he asks for clarification.

“What are you and Gibbs going to do about the future?”

“What do you mean? I want to be with him forever. Is that what you mean?”

“The logistics. You moving in with him? He moving in with you?”

“Did I mention that we only kissed for the first time this week? You have us moving in together already?”

“But you want to be with him forever, and I know the Bossman, he wouldn’t have started this with you if he wasn’t serious about you. Neither of you are getting any younger.”

Tony sighs. “We haven’t really talked about the logistics, as you put it,” he admits. “We’ll let you know when we’ve figured it out.”

Abby smiles, “I know you will. And this is the best thing ever. I just want to throw you a party. I told Sister Rosita about you guys getting together, and you know what she said? She said she thought you guys were already together.”

Tony laughs. “Great, so now the nuns know.”

“The point is she already thought you guys were together. You’re meant to be,” Abby declares.

“I actually agree with you, Abs,” Tony smiles. They settle down to watch the rest of the movie, Tony throwing out random facts about the movie and Will Smith, and both of them sigh with appreciation at both Will Smith and Vivica A Fox.

“Are you already looking for a replacement for me, Tony?” Gibbs teases, as he sits down next to Tony and puts his arm around the younger man.

“Never. I’m just looking, Jet. You gotta admit, that Will Smith is hunky and Vivica is quite a fox,” Tony leans back and turns his head for a kiss. “Plus I told you I’d still look. You done with the boat building for the night?”

“Couldn’t hear any more squealing so figured it was safe to come up,” Gibbs kisses him, and trails kisses to his ear. “Plus I missed you,” he whispers huskily in his ear, making Tony close his eyes and shudder.

Abby grins. “Who knew that the Bossman was into PDAs?” she laughs.

“Don’t make me head slap you, Abs,” Gibbs says easily, smiling at her.

“You’d never head slap me. I’m so happy for you guys,” Abby smiles back, “look how happy Tony is. And how happy you are. This is the best thing ever.”

“It really is, Abs,” Gibbs agrees, rubbing Tony’s shoulder. “I’m a lucky man.”

“Tony says you’ve never been into other men? Just Tony?”

Tony elbows Abby. “Hey!”

“Can you blame me?” Gibbs smiles. “Look at him. He’s gorgeous. And not just on the outside. He’s loyal, faithful, brave, strong – he’s beautiful inside and out.”

“Aww, Gibbs…” Abby’s eyes fill with tears, “you guys are perfect for each other.”

Tony’s face is so hot he thinks he will spontaneously combust. Gibbs sees his expression and laughs. “You’re gorgeous when you’re embarrassed,” he teases. “Seriously, Abby, for such a flirt and a playboy, he sure can blush.”

After Abby leaves, Gibbs turns the lights off, locks the front door and helps Tony up the stairs. They brush their teeth and get ready for bed. Gibbs helps Tony take his t-shirt and sweat pants off. Tony crawls into bed, naked.

“How are your ribs? You want painkillers?”

Tony shakes his head and holds his arms out. “All I want is you, Jethro.”

Gibbs rolls his eyes and gets in the bed wearing t-shirt and boxers. Tony tugs at his t-shirt pulling it off. He tries to pull Tony’s hand away when he starts pulling his boxers down. “Seriously, Tony, you need to rest. You’re pushing yourself.”

“I’ll sleep much better after an orgasm,” Tony assures him, putting his hand into Gibbs’ boxers and palming his half-hard cock. “All those endorphins are better than drugs. Besides you said you missed me.”

Gibbs hisses as Tony rubs the slit and massages the head of his cock. “You’re insatiable,” he moans, his cock getting harder and harder in Tony’s hands. He sheds the boxers, and reaches for Tony who is already hard and leaking. “I think I’m really going to like that you sleep naked.”

“Just keep the iguanas away from me and I’m good…” Tony gasps as Gibbs’ runs his finger on his cock.

“Lie down and turn on your side,” Gibbs helps him and places pillows to prop him up strategically before he lies on his side, facing Tony, in a sideways 69 position.

Tony grins lustily before swallowing Gibbs’ proffered cock, taking him in all the way, his nose buried in the springy curls. Gibbs moans and thrusts into Tony’s wet heat, amazed at how quickly Tony has gotten him from concern to arousal and now close to release. Determinedly, he tries to hold back and begins sucking on Tony, and they explore each other slowly, deliciously, mirroring each other’s movements. When Gibbs licks down Tony’s shaft and begins sucking and licking his balls, with an agonized groan Tony does the same to Gibbs. When Tony works a finger into Gibbs’ puckered hole, Gibbs immediately wets his own finger and returns the favor. They are finger fucking, brushing each other’s prostates and sucking each other, excitement building and building to a fevered crescendo. Tony begins to stiffen and opens his mouth, allowing Gibbs to pop out but continuing to stroke him frantically with his hands and brushing his prostate with his fingers, and he mutters incoherently in Italian, thrusting into Gibbs fingers and his mouth and his release slams into him – he roars an epithet as he comes down Gibbs’ throat. Panting, he sucks on Gibbs’ cock and takes him deep in his throat, bobbing in and out as Gibbs thrusts into his mouth uncontrollably before he comes with a strangled cry.

They lie, panting together before Gibbs rights himself and kisses Tony. “Happy now?”

Tony sucks on Gibbs’ tongue, their tastes commingling. “Most definitely,” he sighs. “Love you.”

“Love you, gorgeous.”

Tony cracks an eye open and settles himself comfortably against Gibbs, absently playing with his chest hair and nipple. “I can’t wait till my ribs are better. I have some ideas as to what else we could do.”

“Hasn’t seemed to affect your sex drive.”

“Would take much more than a couple of broken ribs to affect my sex drive. The plague did it. I was pretty asexual for a while after that.”

Gibbs shudders. “Don’t remind me, Tony. It killed me to see you go through that.”

“Almost killed me too,” Tony was matter of fact. He racks his brain, trying to figure out the proper phrasing for his question.

“Spit it out, Tony.”

“What?”

“You want to talk to me about something and you’re not sure how to bring it up?”

“I hate that you know me so well.”

“No you don’t.”

“OK no I don’t,” Tony is silent and Gibbs knows he has to wait for the younger man to organize his thoughts and choose his words, and that he can’t push. “Abby asked me some questions that I didn’t really have any answers to.”

“OK, what questions?”

“Future questions.”

“Forever. I told you. Love you, want you, need you forever.”

“Me too,” Tony meets Gibbs’ gaze steadily, his feelings unmasked, almost dizzying Gibbs with his honesty.

“What’s the hesitation then?”

“Abby asked logistics. Like are we moving in together? If so where? I told her we hadn’t talked about it.”

“My place is with you. So you can move in here, or I can move in with you, or we can keep our separate places. I don’t care as long as I go to bed with you and wake up with you. The where is immaterial.”

“You really mean that,” it’s more a statement than a question.

“I do. But what do you want?”

“I want to be with you, whererever you are too.”

“Good, then I think we’ve decided enough things for tonight. My place is with you and your place is with me. Who cares about geography. We good now?”

“We’re good,” Tony smiles, kisses Gibbs neck and lowers his head with a stifled pained moan.

“You want a painkiller now?” Gibbs asks. “Don’t even have to get up. I have it right here.”

“Maybe some Advil?”

“Take the good stuff, Tony. Let yourself heal.”

Tony allows himself to be talked into taking his pain meds. Before long he is drowsily purring while Gibbs rubs his head and he falls asleep purring in Gibbs’ arms.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next few weeks pass without incident. Tony and Jethro, slip easily back to DiNozzo and Gibbs when they are at work. Their nights are filled with companionship, love and passion. Over this time, Tony’s nightmares lessen. On nights when he awakens crying in Gibbs’ arms, it doesn’t seem as bad. He still refuses to speak about his nightmares, but the fact that they are few and far between comforts Gibbs. Abby comes and hangs out with them a couple of nights a week, casework permitting.

At work, Tony is stuck on desk duty and works the background checks, research, BOLOs and such while Gibbs, McGee and Bishop work the field. The only difference in how they act toward each other at work is that every so often Gibbs will bring Tony a coffee the way he likes it, and Tony will reward him with a loving smile.

Vance makes it a requirement that Tony passes a psych eval with Dr Kate’s Sister before he can be certified for field work and Tony decides to get it over with sooner rather than later.

He impresses Rachel with his acceptance of the physical and sexual abuse, opens up about his confusion and indecision regarding what to do with his father’s current role in his life, and admits that he is actually seeing someone and is happy.

“So you love her?” she asks.

“I love him,” he says, smiling at Rachel’s quirked eyebrows.

“And he loves you?”

“He loves me. He sees me. I don’t have to hide anything from him. He’s known me for a while anyway, so there aren’t that many surprises. Except of course there are, in a good way.”

“Does anybody at work know?”

“Abby knows,” Tony shrugs, “she’s good at figuring me out. McGee suspects but he hasn’t worked up the courage to ask me.”

“Are you going to tell anyone?”

“Eventually, sure. I’m not in a rush. Kind of like having him to myself,” his happy grin tweaks Rachel’s heartstrings.

“I take it he’s not your first male lover?”

“Are you digging just out of curiousity now, Dr Kate’s Sister?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I should be concerned if you’re drastically changing your patterns and attractions?”

“No drastic changes. I’ve always been interested in women and men. Just didn’t advertise that second part too much, you know how people are in police departments, at least historically.”

“It doesn’t matter to you now?”

“NCIS is really accepting and open. Plus I’m too old to care what people think. I know my team will have my six, and can you imagine what Gibbs would do if I were to be shunned by anyone, local LEOs or any of the alphabet soup?” he grins wickedly at that thought. “I have family now.”

“You certainly do.” And so he passes the evaluation with flying colors without even trying any of his usual tricks and deflections.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One day while Tony is in the break room trying to decide on snacks from the vending machine, McGee comes in to refresh his coffee.

“Want a Nutter Butter, Probie?” Tony asks.

“Sure.”

Tony purchases a Nutter Butter and hands it to the junior agent, still trying to figure out what he wants for himself.

“Hey Tony?” McGee sounds hesitant.

“Yeah? Hmm what do you think, do I feel like a dark chocolate Dove bar, M&Ms or Skittles?” Tony is still undecided.

“You seem pretty happy lately. Like not in an ‘I’m pretending to be happy’ way but an ‘I’m actually happy’ way. I just wanted to tell you it’s nice to see you happy. You’re seeing someone, right?”

Tony feeds money into the machine and smiles. “Thanks, Tim. I am seeing someone. And I am happy,” he smiles a smile that reaches his eyes. “Snap decision: we’re going with Hershey bar with almonds and some mini Oreos.” Gibbs has a secret love for Oreos, so Tony plans to leave the bag on his desk.

“Tony, it’s OK if your someone is-is n-not a w-woman,” Tim begins stuttering like the probie he used to be.

“Are you asking me if I have a boyfriend, Tim?” Tony collects his purchases and tears opens the Hershey bar, quirking an eyebrow at his probie.

“I guess I am.”

Tony’s smile widens. “Then yes, I do. Have a boyfriend. Although I’m kind of too old to have one, he calls himself that, so who am I to argue with him?”

“He some handsome young stud?”

“My tastes run in the other direction,” Tony grins. “Older men, yum.”

“When do we get to meet him?”

“Why?”

“He makes you happy. So he’s part of the family. We need to meet him to make sure he knows he needs to treat you right and that all your friends either carry guns, or can dismember him professionally, and can dispose of his body with no trace.”

Tony’s eyes twinkle and he gives McGee an awkward hug. “Aw, I feel like I should have gotten you two Nutter Butters, Tim. Thanks. That’s a really nice sentiment. You’ll meet him soon, OK? I promise he’s good to me, he grounds me, and he makes me happy. Not to say we don’t get angry and upset and yell at each other sometimes, but I guess everyone does that every so often. But the makeup sex after is ridiculous! So glad I got into yoga. Some real interesting positions…” Tony growls lustily.

“Eww Tony, TMI!”


	10. Chapter 10

When he is cleared for fieldwork, and has requalified at the firing range, Tony and Gibbs decide they should tell the people they care about. They invite their team, and also include Vance, his kids, the hot nanny, and Fornell to Gibbs’ on a Saturday that they are not on call. Tony volunteers to cook, but they decide to have it at Gibbs’ house to comfortably fit more people.

But they also decide to speak with Vance in his office so as not to catch him off guard. Tony and Gibbs walk up the stairs to Vance’s office and Gibbs surprises Cynthia by asking if Vance is available for a quick chat. She waves them right in, bemused. Gibbs never even knocks, much less asks her questions.

Gibbs raps on the door and he and Tony walk in.

“We need a word?” he closes the door after Tony walks in.

“Gentlemen, sit please. DiNozzo, you’ve been cleared and requalified?”

“All set, sir. Raring to go.”

“No after effects?”

“Nope. All good.”

“So what can I do for you?”

“Uh…” Tony clears his throat and begins blushing. Gibbs rolls his eyes and fights to keep from grinning.

“Leon, in the interest of full disclosure, we are in a relationship,” Gibbs says, straight faced. “Telling the team tomorrow. Didn’t want to blindside you.”

“Oh,” Vance stares at them, noting that Tony’s blush is deepening and that Gibbs looks amused. “You two, are in a relationship? With each other?”

“Yep.”

Tony nods.

“Are you requesting a transfer for DiNozzo?”

“No,” both men answer firmly.

“Shouldn’t have any bearing on work. NCIS has no policies against interoffice relationships,” Tony says. “Gibbs won’t behave any differently, and neither will I.”

“You’re both fine with this?”

Both men nod firmly.

“OK. Well consider me informed. Carry on.”

“You still bringing the kids for dinner tomorrow night?” Tony asks.

“We’re not missing it for the world. Kayla told me to give you today off so you’d have two days to cook.”

Tony laughs. “Good to know I have fans.”

Gibbs nods goodbye to Vance, and as one, he and Tony stand and move towards the door. “Gentlemen?” they both turn, eyebrows raised questioningly. Vance is struck by how similar both men are, despite the fact that one looks like he stepped out of a high end fashion magazine, and the other is obviously a no-nonsense ex-Marine. “Are you really in a relationship? I’m trying to see it.”

Gibbs turns to Tony and his face softens to a loving smile. Briefly he lays the back of his hand on Tony’s cheek, and the younger man closes his eyes and leans into the touch, his lips quirking into a soft smile.

“I’m the luckiest man,” Gibbs takes his hand away and smiles at Vance. Tony turns beet red again but grins openly.

Vance is struck by the depth of feeling that the two men have for each other, just in that one fleeting moment. Seeing it, he aches for Jackie. For the rest of the day, Vance watches how Gibbs and Tony act around one another and cannot see any difference in their behavior. Always professional, and still the same connection with each other and their team. The only time he sees a crack is when they were leaving for the day. Gibbs has dismissed his team for the weekend, and McGee and Bishop have left. Gibbs is trying to make Tony leave and when Tony finally turns his computer off and grabs his backpack, weapon and badge, Gibbs keeps his hand on the small of his SFA’s back all the way to the elevator.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day, Tony has another Italian feast planned for dinner. He and Gibbs go shopping in the morning, receiving the same treatment and love from Tony’s Italian friends. He discusses his menu in depth with Signore Morelli, the butcher, and they look at different cuts of meat debating each option thoroughly. They also taste different cured meats, and Gibbs loves how Tony forgets to speak to him in English and includes him in their conversation as a matter of course, sharing everything that he tastes without even thinking about it.

The rest of the day is a flurry of activities. Tony has brought equipment over, some extra pots and pans, pasta roller, some dishware and silverware. Abby turns up in the afternoon and Tony allows her to help him cook. Gibbs cleans the house and then retires safely to the basement leaving the two to squabble and cook.

At one point, while Gibbs is up to grab a drink, Tony is scolding Abby in Italian while she kneads dough.

“What’s he going on about, Abs?” Gibbs smiles, taking in the sight of his SFA dressed in shorts and a t-shirt and somehow making it the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. He leans his body against Tony’s back, wraps his arms around Tony’s now-healed ribs, puts his head on the younger man’s shoulder and kisses his neck.

“I think he finds my technique sadly lacking,” Abby says, grinning. “He got so frustrated and tired of yelling at me in English he’s reverted.”

Tony rolls his eyes, leaning into Gibbs, arching his neck, silently begging for more. “Her last name is ‘Sciuto’. Her grandmother would be sad and ashamed of…this…” he waves his hands at the table.

“Give me a break. I’m from New Orleans,” Abby says, pronouncing it “N’Awleans”.

Tony insults her in Italian but breaks off halfway when Gibbs tightens his arms around him and nibbles on his neck. “Be nice,” the blue-eyed man tells him, grinning at Tony’s stifled moan.

“That’s effective,” Abby says. “Like a head slap but way sexier.”

Tony blushes furiously. “He likes those too,” Gibbs tells her, grinning. “But it drives me crazy when he gets all Italian like that. Very, very sexy,” he growls.

Tony growls back.

“I knew the two of you together would be so hot,” Abby shakes her head. “You sure I can’t watch?”

Gibbs grins and tweaks her pigtails, drops another kiss on Tony’s neck before he goes back to the basement.

It takes Tony a minute to regain his composure.

“Wow the Bossman can really fluster you, huh?” Abby smirks.

“He always could do that,” Tony said. “He’s just raised it to a different level now.”

“He really makes you happy, doesn’t he?” Abby says softly.

“He really does,” Tony answers, equally quietly, looking Abby in the eyes, letting his happiness show. “Now, if you could learn how to knead dough properly…my life would be complete.”

When the guests arrive, Tony is freshly showered and dressed simply in form-fitting dark jeans and a nondescript gray t-shirt. Abby and Gibbs put out the antipasto platters and bruschetta while Tony busies himself opening bottles of wine. Tony is greeted with much enthusiasm by Vance’s children which leaves him puzzled. Kids don’t normally get along with him but apparently food bridges all age gaps. Leon gives them both knowing grins but doesn’t say anything.

McGee whoops with joy when Tony brings out the pasta course: blue-crab raviolos in sage and brown butter sauce, accompanied by rosemary focaccia with extra virgin olive oil for dipping, and a large salad. Abby takes credit for the focaccia as she had to endure Tony’s scolding for her bread-kneading technique. The next course is herb roasted lamb shoulders, with roasted vegetables and polenta. Dessert is peach crostatas which Tony baked, as well as an assortment of store-bought cannolis.

“DiNutzo, you’re gonna make some woman a real happy camper someday,” Fornell says, as he digs into his second helping of crostata.

“On that note,” Gibbs says, and clears his throat, getting everyone’s attention. “DiNozzo is making me the happy camper. Not some woman. Me.”

“What?” Fornell sputters.

“We’re together now,” Gibbs reaches for Tony’s hand and smiles at him.

“If the Bossman had a Facebook account, he and Tony would be ‘in a relationship’,” Abby chimes in.

There is a long moment of silence, then lots of questions, and then hugs all around. One of the best reactions comes from Emily, Fornell’s daughter.

“Wait, so is Agent DiNozzo now Uncle Gibbs’ boyfriend?” she asks.

“Yes, Emily, he’s my boyfriend.”

“Cool. That means many more dinners like this, right? Never break up with him, Uncle Gibbs,” Emily grins.

Tony shakes his head and grins like an idiot. Gibbs pulls him into his arms, presses a kiss to his flaming cheeks and smiles at Emily, “Never,” he agrees. “And I think it’s OK for you to call him Tony now.”

Later in the evening, when everyone is relaxed and chatting and Tony is working on the dishes, Gibbs pulls him into a dark corner and begins kissing him.

“There are people here,” Tony hisses as Gibbs tugs on his hair, giving him better access, and slips his tongue into Tony's mouth. Tony moans and kisses him back, giving up any semblance of resistance. His hands slip under Gibbs’ jeans and boxers, kneading his bare ass as Gibbs grinds himself against Tony’s hardening cock. They kiss fiercely for a few minutes before Gibbs pulls away, panting.

“There are _children_ here,” Gibbs tells him solemnly.

“Fuck you, you bastard, you started it,” Tony grins at him.

Gibbs claims his mouth again, a gentle, loving, deep kiss which Tony returns with all the love that he feels. They pull apart and stay in each other’s arms, foreheads touching.

“Love you, gorgeous.”

“Love you, babe.”

And as Gibbs walks away, Tony slaps his butt with a grin. Gibbs goes back to the living room. Tony stays against the wall just breathing for a minute before he goes back to the sink. McGee comes to help him with the dishes.

“You guys are good together,” McGee tells him. “Delilah thinks so too.”

Tony flashes him a grin. “Thanks, Tim.”

“Plus I saw some of that last kiss you had in the corner? Pretty hot. You guys are all fireworks and explosions.”

“McGee!?!” Tony is outraged. “That is _Gibbs_ you’re talking about.”

“ _Now_ you’re a prude?”

Tony groans. “I’m not comfortable talking about Gibbs’ sex life, thank you very much.”

“But his sex life is your sex life.”

“If you don’t stop this, I will recount in great detail all the things that you think you want to know and then you’ll find out whether the things you think you want to know are actually the things that you want to know.”

“That doesn’t even make sense. All I’m saying is now that you guys are open about it, we can all see how well you fit together, and that the sex must be something awesome for you of all people to be embarrassed to talk about it.”

“Fine, Tim, the sex is fucking out of this world. OK? He makes me feel things like nobody else ever has, and this is why I highly recommend dating older men, because they have lots of experience and they know how to use their bodies, and they’re patient and generous, and happy to screw you until you’re screaming in ecstasy. There. Happy??”

McGee snickers. “I bet Abby wants to watch.”

“For god’s sakes, nobody’s going to watch. You both need to grow up.”

“I don’t know how you guys have kept a lid on it at work, now that I’ve seen you two together.”

“Just shut up, McGee.”

“No seriously. How do you do it? I knew you were seeing someone for a while but you guys haven’t behaved any differently at work.”

“And we’re not gonna. Work is work. Home is home. Just cause we love each other doesn’t mean we can’t work with each other or will automatically treat each other differently at work. It’s not like we just fell in love. We’ve been partners for fifteen years.”

“Aw, you guys really do love each other.”

“Seriously, shut up, McGee.”

“I can’t believe you’re sleeping with the boss, Tony.”

Head slap. McGee giggles. “I love that I can wind you up with this Tony.”

“Not at work though or Gibbs will head slap you to kingdom come.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The conversation turns to how Gibbs and Tony met. The two are sitting on the couch, Gibbs’ arm around Tony’s shoulder and Tony leaning into Gibbs’ chest.

“Come on, you guys already know this story,” Tony groans.

“It just means something different now that you guys are together,” Bishop says. “Plus I’ve only heard this story second hand.”

“I’ve had the hots for him since he tackled me and cuffed me in Baltimore,” Gibbs admits.

Tony grins at him and kisses him gently. “That’s enough of that. There are children here,” he says sternly.

“That far back?” Fornell is surprised. “You never said.”

“Never thought I had a chance,” Gibbs said. “I’m just a battered old marine, and well, just look at him!”

“Oh my god, I cannot believe we’re going to talk about this,” Tony groans and hides his face. Gibbs pets his head and kisses his temple.

“Never thought you’d be the shy one, DiNozzo,” Vance teases.

“Seriously. Don’t you find this ironic?” McGee exclaims. “After all the years of explicit details for his extra-curricular activities?”

“It’s like he’s both a playboy and an ingénue,” Gibbs says. “Very hot combination.”

“Did you just fu-frakking call me an ingénue?” Tony is shocked, but manages to salvage his language since Vance’s kids and Emily are listening intently.

“What’s an ingénue?” Jared, Vance’s son asks, and Kayla whispers something which makes him giggle.

“This is truly a side I never thought you even had, Tony,” Abby teases. “And between us, we’ve seen some doozies.”

“I’ve never seen anybody turn quite so red,” Delilah says wickedly innocent.

“Oh my god. Maybe this is why I never tell you guys when I’m with someone,” Tony groans. “I’ve always thought you’d give the third degree to my significant other but when it’s Gibbs I guess that makes me ‘it’. Nobody wants to risk Gibbs’ death glare to give him a hard time about this.”

“Come on, Tony, let’s take an after-dinner walk around the block and let these guys talk,” Bishop stands.

Relieved, Tony starts to stand but Gibbs pulls him back demanding a kiss before he leaves. Then he slaps Tony’s butt as he walks away. Tony’s outraged squeak makes the group laugh.

Outside, Tony walks with his hands in his pockets and Bishop slips her arm through his, smiling up at him. “You made a really awesome dinner again, Tony.”

He shrugs. “I like to cook.”

“We can tell. It was really really good.”

“Thank you.”

They walk silently for a few minutes. “So you and Gibbs?”

“Yep. No you don’t get to watch either.”

Bishop laughs. “Abby?”

“Who else.”

“Does he make you happy?”

Tony smiles softly and looks at Bishop. “Are you checking to make sure I’m OK, Bishop? And that Gibbs hasn’t head-slapped me out of my own mind?”

Bishop smiles. “You’re an awesome guy, Tony. I just wanted to remind you that you are.”

Tony’s smile widens and he puts his arm around Bishop. “Probette, you’re something else,” they walk a few steps in silence. “He makes me very happy,” he says quietly. “I’ve been in love with him pretty much forever, and it’s unbelievable that he feels the same for me. I’ve never ever had anything like this. So yeah, he makes me happy. I can’t imagine life without him.”

“And he treats you well?”

“He treats me better than I deserve.”

“You deserve more than you think.”

“Gibbs is teaching me that. And if he keeps at it long enough, maybe one day I will believe that I deserve him,” Tony smiles.

Despite all the ribbing Tony endures that night, he is pleasantly surprised that on Monday, nothing has changed and they all slip back into their usual roles at work.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ducky corners Gibbs and Tony in Autopsy on Monday morning when they check in with him about a case.

“Gentlemen, I wanted to let you know how happy I am about the two of you being romantically involved,” he tells them.

Tony blushes and Gibbs grins. “Thanks Duck. We’re pretty happy about it, too.”

“I can tell that. And I’m happy you both finally faced up to your feelings and did something about it. I have to confess that I’ve known for a little while about you.”

“How did you know? We’ve been very careful at work,” Gibbs frowns.

“And you have been. I wouldn’t have known from your behavior in the workplace. I’m afraid I was in the hospital room that night when young Anthony regained consciousness after Seth Mulroney took him. You did not realize I was there and I did not want to intrude. Your devotion to each other was obvious and very touching.”

“Plus I think I did plant a few kisses on him.”

“There was also the matter of the rather fetching terms of endearments that you used on each other. And besides, if I hadn’t witnessed your tete-a-tete in the hospital, seeing you settled in Jethro’s bed in his house, dear Anthony, might have given it away a little.”

Tony’s blush deepens but he grins happily. “Glad we have your blessing, Ducky.”

“All I wish for is your happiness, Anthony. And everyone has seen how happy you have been in the last few weeks. I know Jethro well enough to know that he has been happier than ever as well. This makes me, as your friend, happy.”

“He’s my everything, Ducky,” Gibbs says seriously. “Now, about this dead Marine?”

Ducky moves smoothly into casework. When this is completed, and Gibbs and Tony move to leave, Ducky puts a hand on Gibbs’ arm.

“Jethro, a word please?” Ducky says. And seeing Tony’s inquiring look, he adds, “In private, if you don’t mind, Anthony?”

Tony nods and leaves Autopsy with Palmer.

“What’s up, Duck?” Gibbs frowns. “Something hinky about this case?”

“No, Jethro. I wanted to speak to you about Anthony.”

Gibbs’ expression clears at the thought of Tony. Smiling slightly, he cocks his head and gives Ducky his full attention. “What about DiNozzo?”

Ducky frowns at Gibbs’ use of Tony’s last name. “Jethro, we have been friends for a very long time, and I have also known Anthony for almost as long as you have. I have watched both of you go through heartbreak and loss.”

Gibbs nods and makes a ‘get on with it’ gesture.

“I am very fond of that boy, Jethro.”

“I know you are, Ducky. He’s lucky to have you as a friend.”

Ducky sighs in frustration. “Oh dear, Jethro. I fear I am not expressing myself well.”

“Speak plainly then.”

“Very well, Jethro. I shall try.” Ducky pauses to gather his thoughts. “I am terribly fond of that young man, Jethro. And as fond as I am of you, he has suffered through too much already. Do take care of his heart as it is a great gift. I would hate to have to do something to ensure that he is not hurt again.”

Gibbs stares at Ducky in shock. “Are you threatening me?”

Ducky frowns. “That is a rather strong statement, Jethro,” he says reprovingly. “I am merely expressing my concerns that young Anthony, despite all indications, is rather sensitive and can be fragile. You have a tendency to be – brusque. Do take care and guard that you do not hurt that boy. He is alone in the world and I will not see him be hurt, not even by you. I assure you, I have skills you are not aware of, and I will not hesitate to use them on you.”

A storm is brewing in Gibbs’ eyes. Ducky braces for the fallout, but it doesn’t come. Suddenly, Gibbs smiles. “He’s not alone anymore, Ducky,” he says softly. “I’ve loved him for a long time. I won’t let anyone hurt him. Not even me. And if I do hurt him, do whatever you like with me, I’ll deserve it.”

Ducky smiles. “I am glad we have come to an understanding, Jethro. This reminds me of the time I was watching wild elephants in Burma…”

Meanwhile, in the elevator, Palmer flips the emergency off button, surprising Tony.

“Black Lung? Something you need?” he asks, grinning.

“Are you happy, Tony?” Palmer is serious. “Agent Gibbs is so intense. You haven’t been coerced or influenced…”

“Jimmy,” Tony interrupts, holding Palmer’s shoulders. “I promise you, I am where I want to be, and with who I want to be. I’m happy. I love him.”

Palmer looks into Tony’s eyes for a long time before he nods. “Next time, text me or Symbolese me the news. Save me the worry.”

Tony grins. “Won’t be a next time, Palmer. This is it for me.”

Palmer flips the switch and the elevator resumes. “I wish you happiness always, Tony.”

“Thanks, Jim. How’s Breena and Victoria?”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the car on the way to interview a witness, McGee clears his throat. Gibbs is driving with his usual maniacal intensity.

“Spit it out, McGee,” Gibbs barks, after McGee pauses for at least the third time in starting a sentence.

“Uh, B-boss,” McGee stammers.

“Do you disagree we should speak to Petty Officer Kendall?”

“N-no, Boss. N-nothing to do with w-work, Boss.”

Gibbs sighs. “What is it, McGee?” he wonders if McGee has a family issue that he needs Gibbs’ input on and how serious it would be in order to have McGee stammering like a probie again.

“Um, i-it’s about Tony.”

Gibbs’ turns his head sharply and looks at McGee, concern in his face. “Is Tony OK? Something happen?”

“Yeah, he’s OK. Nothing happened today.”

“So what about Tony?”

“Boss, you know I respect the hell out of you, right?”

Gibbs resists the urge to growl. Instead he stomps on the gas and speeds the car, swerving around traffic like a madman. “And?”

McGee swallows, gulping audibly, looking as if he is going to keel over from a heart attack or an aneurysm. He takes a deep breath and takes his courage in his hands. “Don’t hurt Tony, Boss. Don’t break his heart. He’s a good guy and he deserves only the best.”

Gibbs stares at McGee for a long moment, causing McGee to point at the street. “B-boss, m-maybe you should keep your eyes on the road?”

“McGee, it’s customary to follow that with a threat.”

“W-what?”

Gibbs sighs. “After you tell me not to hurt Tony, you should threaten me with something. That’s how it’s supposed to go. Didn’t you take lessons from Ducky?”

McGee goes pale, then turns red, then goes pale again. “Well, Boss. If that’s how it has to be, if you hurt Tony and break his heart, then I’ll be forced to mess with your credit rating and you’ll find life difficult if you’re frozen out of all of your assets.”

Gibbs smiles. “Atta boy, McGee. I’ll keep that in mind. You tell me if Tony seems unhappy and I’ll fix it. Clear?”

“Yes, Boss.”

“Good talk, McGee.”

“Uh, y-yes Boss.” After a minute, McGee clears his throat again. “B-boss? Are you going to kill me?”

“Nah. You’re watching Tony’s six. Nothing wrong with that.”

McGee sighs.

"Might make you inventory the van and clean it for the next month though," Gibbs grins ferally.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tony has been refusing to take any of his father’s calls and has not responded to any of his text messages either. Ever since the news of Senator Mulroney’s arrest and conviction hit the news, Senior has been trying to talk to Tony. Weeks later, Tony still does not know what he wants to do and does not want any contact for the time being.

Things comes to a head when Senior comes knocking on Tony’s door and ringing his doorbell late one night. He calls Tony’s phone repeatedly and yells through the door. Tony and Gibbs have been spending their nights at either of their places, not really caring – clothes and belongings have migrated from one place to another without thought or design. They spend every night together unless one or the other are sent out of town for work. That night they are both sleeping soundly in Tony’s bed, exhausted from three days of non-stop casework and barely any sleep.

Finally Tony stumbles out of bed and yells through the door. “Go away, Dad! I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Junior, let me in and let’s talk about this.”

“No! Just leave me alone for now OK? When I know what to do I’ll let you know.”

“Junior!”

“Go away, Dad! Don’t wake the neighbors!”

Gibbs, dressed only in boxers, his hair disheveled, his gun in his hand, kisses Tony hard and sends him to sit on the sofa. “I’m gonna take care of this.”

“Don’t..”

“I won’t hurt him, I promise.”

Gibbs undoes all the deadbolts loudly, swings the door open violently, and stands in the middle of the doorway, blocking entry. Senior finds him to be an immovable wall.

“Agent Gibbs! What are you doing at my son’s apartment?” Senior is confused.

“Mr DiNozzo, I’m going to tell you this one time and one time only. I have promised your son I will not kill you for your part in ignoring Mulroney’s abuse of him. I have promised your son I will not maim you for accepting money from that man, while he raped him! I have promised your son I will not hurt you in any way as payback for all the bruises and broken bones that you dealt him when he was a child. I have not however, promised your son that I will not look into the legalities of your current financial dealings, your tax returns, your speeding tickets, and/or any other thing that I might be able to pin on you if you don't leave now,” Gibbs voice is firm, menacing, but very quiet.

“I don’t understand…?”

“What’s not to understand? Leave now or you will regret it. Do not contact Tony unless he contacts you first. Don’t test me, Mr DiNozzo.”

“But why would you even care about Junior? He’s _my_ son!”

“You lost the right to be his father the day you sold him to Mulroney,” Gibbs voice is shaking in rage. He cocks his Sig and growls, “Leave now before I forget the promises I made to your son.”

“Is he in there? Does he know you’re here?”

“Of course he knows I’m here. You’ve interrupted our night enough. Leave, Mr DiNozzo.”

“I need for him to know that I love him, Agent Gibbs.”

“Actions speak louder than words.” Gibbs stares at the older man with his steely blue gaze.

Senior gapes when he sees Tony walk silently behind Gibbs and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. Tony is obviously naked.

“I’ll take care of this, love,” Gibbs tells him.

“I know, babe,” Tony says softly. “Dad, I know the part you played in my time with Mulroney. My entire team knows because he told me and then they had to verify it. I just want you to picture this: the man who repeatedly raped me for years when I was a child admitted that he paid for my ‘services’. And even worse, this pervert loved me enough to make you, my father, disown me and send me away so you wouldn’t beat me to death. Then he paid for my boarding schools – he ensured that I had an education and a future. So you should perhaps understand how I might need some distance and space from you, while I try to decide how or even if our relationship moves forward.”

“But Junior…”

“His name is Tony,” Gibbs grates out.

“Son, I’m sorry. I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. And that I love you.”

“I believe that you think you love me, Dad. But I know what love is now, and what you have for me isn’t it,” Tony puts his arm around the bristling Gibbs, as much to be close to his lover as to stop him from doing anything they will regret later.

“Are you and Gibbs…together?”

“You’ve lost the right to ask me that question. But yes, we are. You need to leave now because Jethro is very protective of what’s his,” Tony smiles a small smile. “Please go, Dad. Maybe one day I’ll be able to forgive you. I don’t know. All I know is you need to give me space and go away before I let Jethro do what he wants to do to you.”

Gibbs growls menacingly, eyeing Senior unblinkingly, as he closes the door softly, locks it, and slams all the deadbolts into place. Tony has disappeared into the bathroom.

“Tony, you OK, love?” Gibbs knocks on the closed door. Receiving no reply, he opens it. Tony is sitting on the floor, back against the wall, in between the toilet and the bathtub. He casually bangs the back of his head against the wall repeatedly. Gibbs is immediately on the floor, knees creaking, putting his hand behind Tony’s head, stopping him from hurting himself. Tony’s face is a blank mask, and Gibbs takes his stiff form into his arms and rocks him, speaking soothing words until he feels the younger man’s pulse slow and Tony lean into his embrace.

“I don’t know how you can love me, Jethro,” he finally says softly. “I just don’t see how you can look past all this…”

“But I do love you. I see you. I see who you are. There’s nothing to look past. All of these things made you the man that you are. This man is who I love,” Gibbs tells him. “Don’t shut me out. Let me help you carry this.”

Tony shakes his head, “I wouldn’t even know how to shut you out at this point, babe.”

Gibbs smiles at him. “Want a drink or something?”

Tony is silent for a while, then he looks at the bared chest and broad shoulders of the sexy blue-eyed man in front of him. “How about the ‘or something’?” he says, his eyes filled with lust. “You defending me – that was so hot. My knight in almost no clothes. Mrrowrrr.”

They kiss their way into the bedroom, and Gibbs knows as he makes love to Tony that he is helping him forget his pain for the moment. When they are panting and sated and sticky, Tony under him, he holds the younger man’s face and gazes into his eyes. “I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you,” Tony’s green eyes fill with unshed tears.

“You realize you just cemented your kitten reputation?”

“What?” Confused green eyes.

“You meowed at me to get me into bed.”

“I did not!”

Gibbs nuzzles Tony’s face, kissing him softly, and pets his hair and predictably, Tony begins purring. “Love you, my silly overgrown kitten.”

“Fuck you, babe,” Tony smiles, a yawn catching him unawares, eyes starting to get heavy. “Thank you for tonight. Love you.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They argue about this many times, and some of the arguments are loud, screaming matches, followed by apologies and ferocious make up sex.

“Why are you putting yourself through this? You do not have to keep torturing yourself! You don’t have to look at him again, ever! I promised you that, remember?”

“I have to be there. I have to hear it for myself. I have to see him get taken away for good.”

“Why? You’ll just hurt yourself all over again by doing this!”

“I need to do this, Jethro. I can’t explain why. I don’t _have_ to explain why! I need to do this!”

“He hurt you!”

“I know. I was there, remember?”

“His son tried to kill you!”

“But I killed him first. _He_ sure as hell can’t hurt me anymore.”

“Fuck it, Tony! No! Don’t do this! I can’t see you go through this!!!!”

“Some things I can’t explain, and you just have to fucking get over yourself. I. Need. To. Do. This. For me.”

“You’ll just turn yourself into a pretzel trying to figure out how you should feel about this fucking asshole!”

“He fucking saved me too!”

“He fucking _fucked_ you!!!! When you were a child!!”

“I fucking know that! I was _there_!!!!”

“You’re so fucking stubborn!”

“Hello, pot! Kettle calling!!!”

“Fuck you, Tony!”

“Right back atcha, Jethro!”

When they devolve to name calling, Gibbs will put his arms around Tony, eyes full of fear and sadness. The next phase is the begging phase, where Gibbs begs Tony to reconsider, and to save himself the pain.

“Please, Tony. Please, don’t do this. No good will come of this. You’re only going to hurt yourself, and question yourself, and put yourself through so much pain. I can’t just sit and watch you do this to yourself, love.”

“I know. But I need to do this.”

“Please, love. Please don’t put yourself through this.”

“I don’t want to, I promise you. But I have to. I need to. Please try to understand.”

“I can’t stand to see you get hurt.”

“I know, babe. But I have to be there. I have to do this.”

“Please, for once, spare yourself the pain.”

“I’m sorry, but I have to do this, babe. I don’t want to put you through this. But I have to see it through now.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you. It’s the last thing you need.”

“I deserved it. I’m sorry I yelled back.”

“I’m sorry I said such horrible things…”

Which will lead to the fervent apologies, and then the tearing off of clothes and painfully passionate kisses, and dicks being sucked and fucked before calm descends, even though the issue has not been settled.

But in the end, Tony gets his way.

He attends the sentencing of former Senator Garrett Mulroney. He wears a charcoal grey suit, white dress shirt, open collar, no tie – not full armor but certainly not casual either. He is pale, but calm and resolved. Gibbs goes with him, holding his hand as they walk into the courtroom. Here, Tony learns that he is part of a new brotherhood – he has been part of many in his life, the brotherhood of boarding school rejects, the brotherhood of military school boys, the brotherhood of the basketball team, the college football brotherhood, the brotherhood of his college fraternity, and the brotherhood of the boys in blue. In the courtroom, present are several men of varying ages, at least one looks older than Tony, and the others ranging in age between twenty and forty. They are dressed differently than each other, are of differing heights and weights, seem to be in differing states of financial stability (and sobriety), but when they look in each other’s eyes, there is recognition. They know who they are, immediately. They are some of the boys who have been part of Garrett Mulroney’s life. After the initial recognition, they avert their eyes from each other, recoiling – it is too much to see into each other’s souls. But they are all there, quietly watching as their abuser is sentenced and sent to federal prison for the rest of his natural life. After this is over, they will return to their lives and they will never see each other again. But for today, they are brothers, and they finally stand up to see justice done.

Tony looks at his new brothers, seeing absolute darkness in some of them, and shudders, thinking how easily that could have been him, to let the darkness consume him. That he could have let what happened to him as a child drive him into finding peace at the bottom of a bottle or at the end of a needle, or to be compelled to hurt others in his turn, or simply to have given up and thrown himself off of a tall building a long time ago. He wonders how many of his brothers had ended up in one of those paths. He takes a deep, cleansing breath. He will fight to keep being himself. He will not allow Garrett that kind of power over his life, over thirty years after the fact. He sneaks a look at Gibbs – his blue eyes are worried and angry, and he looks ready to fight. Tony squeezes his hand and nods reassuringly. Gibbs sighs and nods, acknowledging him and squeezing his hand back.

Before he is taken away, Garrett looks around the courtroom. His eyes immediately find Tony, and he breaks into a smile. He waves awkwardly, he is manacled.

Tony stands, face expressionless, hands relaxed at his sides. He looks at him for a long moment before he nods once to his abuser and his savior. Then he holds his hand out to Gibbs. Gibbs takes it and they walk out of the courtroom together, without waiting to see the prisoner leave for the last time.

It is the last time Tony will ever set eyes on Garrett Mulroney.

Gibbs and Tony walk out of the courthouse in silence. Gibbs drives them to the diner, and Tony remains silent. They sit at a booth and Gibbs orders for Tony, who seems to still be lost in thought. Gibbs is worried.

When their drinks arrive and Tony is completely unaware, looking out the window, a faraway look in his eyes, Gibbs reaches across the table and takes Tony’s hands.

“Tony. Tony? Are you with me?”

Slowly, Tony turns to look at Gibbs. He blinks a few times before he seems to return to himself. “What?”

“Hot chocolate’s getting cold.”

Tony nods and curls one hand around the cup, letting Gibbs hold his other hand across the table. He breathes in the aroma of the hot chocolate and toys with the marshmallows with the tip of one finger.

“Did you get what you needed out of today?” Gibbs wants to know.

Tony frowns, puckers his mouth in thought. Then he looks out the window again, that same faraway look in his eyes. He turns back to Gibbs after a minute.

“I think so. I’m not sure what I got, but I needed to see that. Him in manacles and prison orange. Going away forever.”

Gibbs nods. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Tony shakes his head. “Nope. I’m done with him. Thank you for going with me, I’m not sure I would have been brave enough to do that by myself.”

“You’re welcome, love.” Gibbs sips his coffee, keeping his hand over Tony’s. “Well, since we have the rest of the day off, is there something that you want to do?”

Tony smiles. He winks at Gibbs lasciviously. “As a matter of fact I do. You.”

Gibbs hastily drops some money on the table and drags Tony to his car. They drive to his house in record time, and almost before the front door is closed, Tony pounces on him, kissing him, ripping his clothes off, almost desperate with need.

Afterwards, they lie on the floor by the front door, panting, sweaty, sticky, and sated, entwined around each other. Tony holds Gibbs, his face in the crook of Gibbs’ neck, holding him tightly. With no warning, he buries his face in Gibbs’ neck and begins weeping – his body is wracked by great, silent sobs, his tears flow freely, and surprised, Gibbs holds him and soothes him, encouraging him to let it all out, not asking him to check his tears.

When Tony is all cried out, he lies in Gibbs’ arms. Oddly, he does not feel ashamed at his tears, apparently this DiNozzo does cry. He feels lighter than he’s felt in, well, forever. A weight has been lifted. He lies in Gibbs’ arms and enjoys the soothing motions up his hands up and down his back, his arms, Gibbs’ fingers through his hair, Gibbs calming voice whispering sweet nothings. This is where he wants to be forever. This is where he belongs.

“Jethro?”

“Yeah?”

“Love you, babe.”

“Love you too, gorgeous.”

“Wanna move up to the bedroom? I don’t think the front door is locked. Abby would really enjoy walking in right now.”

Gibbs laughs. “You OK now?”

“I think so,” Tony attempts a smile, small but genuine. They spend the rest of the afternoon holding each other, each offering the other wordless comfort and love. Tony knows that this has been hard on Gibbs as well.

That night, they eat cowboy steaks on the couch after a slow, burning, deliberate, delicious session of sex. Both of them are eating, naked, under a blanket, the TV on low.

“I was thinking…” Gibbs begins, after he puts his plate aside.

“Hmm?” Tony frowns, his mind is on the game on TV and on the case that the team is working on. McGee and Bishop have been texting him all day about it, even though he and Gibbs officially have the day off.

“This isn’t the best time and you’ve been through a lot.”

“What?” his mind whips to the present. “You’re not kicking me out, are you?” he grins.

“No! The opposite really. Hell, I’m not doing this right.”

“Doing what right? Is this about the case? I’ve been thinking...”

“It’s not about the case, DiNozzo.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Back to last names. Now you’re really scaring me, _Gibbs_.”

Gibbs runs his hands through his hair and growls in frustration. “I’m so not doing this right.”

“At this point I have no clue what you’re doing, babe,” Tony says soothingly, “but you sure are cute.”

“I’m just going to start over.”

“Fair enough.”

Gibbs slides off the couch and goes down on one knee. Naked. He takes Tony’s hand in his. “In spite of how much pain it caused you, you went there today, and you saw this thing through. I saw how much it hurt you, and yet you still did it. I see now that you needed to do this so you could walk away cleanly. Your courage and strength just dazzles and baffles me. But what was even more important to me was that you _let_ me be there for you. And I want to – be there for you, when you’re happy, when you’re sad, when you’re sick, when you’re well, when you’re angry. I want to be there for you, and be whatever you need. Even if we fight about it, I want to be the one you fight with, and the one who makes you feel better after we apologize to each other. I want to be with you. I want forever with you. Marry me, Tony DiNozzo.”

Tony’s mouth has fallen open in shock. “This is so not where I thought you were going,” he says, eyes wide. “Jethro, we’re _naked_!”

“What, I can’t propose to you when we’re naked?”

“So not the kind of proposals I usually get when I’m naked!”

“Fuck it, Tony, will you marry me?”

“Yes. Of course I’ll marry you,” a smile slowly blooms on Tony’s face, Gibbs’ favorite smile. The one reserved for Gibbs alone, the one filled with love and devotion and was that joy?

Gibbs jumps back onto the couch, and they kiss, a fierce, hungry, fiery kiss, despite the fact that both are sated, they feel the need to touch each other’s skins, to feel that now-palpable connection to each other.

“Note to self,” Gibbs says in between kisses. “For next time, I should definitely be naked when I propose. Makes for much easier making out afterwards.”

“Assuming the next answer is a yes. Be awkward if the answer was no.”

Gibbs grunts his agreement.

“Although I quite enjoyed ripping your clothes off earlier,” Tony has moved on to nipping on Gibbs’ sensitive earlobes.

“Oh god I liked that too. You’re gonna have to take my shirt in to your tailor if we ever find those buttons.”

“Wait, are you already planning to propose again? Five Mrs Gibbs isn’t enough?” Tony mutters, grinding himself against Gibbs and moaning when Gibbs sucks and bites on his neck.

“You’re going to be the fifth Mrs Gibbs,” Gibbs starts chuckling, but breaks off in a half strangled groan when Tony begins stroking his cock.

“I am _not_ taking your name,” Tony tells him, “but I am going to take you now.”

“Oh, yes, please…”

Tony’s fingers ready Gibbs, and when he slides into Gibbs’ body, he is almost ready to come. Tony begins thrusting smoothly, stroking Gibbs’ prostate and pulling on his dick, fondling his balls, the delicious pressure building inside them until they both find their releases.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Gibbs was a little OOC in this chapter - way too many words. But the way I figure it, he spoke to Shannon, more than the functional mute that we know and love. So for Tony's sake, he'll say more stuff.
> 
> I also wrote different scenes involving Senior, a few involving more pain and punishment, but in the end I went with what I have here because Tony's capacity to give people multiple chances seems to be a constant. I know I would have quit if my boss ever treated me the way Gibbs has done in the past (e.g., return from Mexico). Not quite the satisfying crunchy end for Senior, but hopefully true to the character.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter!

Their original plan to run to the courthouse to one of the judges that they are friendly with during a lunch hour to get hitched is thwarted by one Abigail Sciuto and one Doctor Donald Mallard.

“No!” Abby yells.

“It’ll take like a half hour, then we’ll buy you lunch. You get to be a witness. Let’s go, Judge Fisher is expecting us,” Tony takes Abby’s hand and tugs her toward the elevator.

“Come on, Gibbs is getting Ducky, I’m getting you, we have our two witnesses, and boom! Bob’s your uncle.”

“Tony! This isn’t like picking up a lunch order! You guys are getting married! You can’t do this like it’s some casual thing.”

“It’s not a casual thing. It’s forever. But it’s just a piece of paper to reflect what’s in our hearts. Let’s go, Abs, don’t want to be late for my own wedding.”

“That’s just it, Tony. This is _not_ a wedding! This is…well I don’t even know what this is!”

Tony sighs in frustration. “We don’t want a fuss, Abby, please. We just want to get married. Is that so wrong?”

Abby hugs him. “I’m your best friend, and I’m throwing you a wedding.”

“I don’t need a wedding, Abs.”

“No, Tony. I’m putting my foot down. You and Bossman will get married, but not like this. Come on, let’s go talk to Ducky. I’m sure he’ll agree with me.”

“I knew I should have made Gibbs order McGee and Bishop to be the witnesses,” Tony mutters as he is dragged down to Autopsy. When the door swooshes open, they hear Ducky’s voice, raised in objection.

“No, Jethro. This is not how you are going to marry Anthony.”

“I’ve had four weddings, Ducky.”

“That dear boy has had none. And by god, you will do right by him, Jethro.”

“He says that this is what he wants.”

Tony chimes in, “Ducky this is what I want.”

“No, Anthony. This is not how you start your lives together.”

“But we’ve been together. This won’t really change anything,” Tony says reasonably. “Let’s just do it, no fuss, and get on with our lives.”

Abby stands next to Ducky. “Ducky, I’m with you. I refuse to let them get married like this. I’m going to throw them a wedding.”

“No, Abigail, _we_ are going to throw them a wedding.”

Tony checks his watch and turns pleading eyes to his friends. “Come on, we’re going to miss the judge’s window.”

“You had better call that judge and tell him you’re postponing. And when Abigail and I have made our plans, we will call him and ask him to officiate at your real wedding.”

Gibbs and Tony exchange glances. They can plainly see that this plan is falling apart. “Better call the judge, babe,” Tony tells Gibbs. He nods and pulls out his phone.

“OK, but just a small and intimate thing. Just friends and family. Except not my dad,” Tony concedes. “Really small.”

“Can I organize the bachelor party?” Abby grins.

“No!” Gibbs yells at Abby, smiling helplessly, before turning back to the phone.

“Oh Tony, you’re getting married,” Abby’s eyes fill with tears as she hugs him tightly. “That’s just so awesome.”

Tony grins and hugs her back, and laughs when Ducky shakes his hand and claps his back, drawing him into a hug himself.

“Oh my dear boy, congratulations!”

“Did you propose, or did Gibbs?”

“I proposed,” Gibbs comes back, hugging Abby and accepting congratulations from Ducky.

“Was it romantic? Cause this train wreck Ducky and I stopped today sure wasn’t.”

“It was very romantic,” Tony says, blushing.

“He didn’t do it at the firing range, did he?” Ducky asks.

"Did the Bossman go down on one knee?" Abby wants to know.

“No. It was at home. On one knee. It was perfect. He used real words,” Tony’s blush deepens, “it was a proper, heartfelt declaration of his feelings for me.”

“Don’t forget the being naked part, gorgeous,” in an uncharacteristically affectionate move, completely unlike how they usually behave at work, Gibbs hugs Tony from behind and leans his head on his fiance’s shoulder. “Definitely one of the best parts. And of course the part where you said yes.”

Tony leans his cheek on Gibbs’ head and smiles. “I couldn’t have asked for more, babe.”

“Awwwww,” Abby hugs them both. “You leave everything to Ducky and me. I promise, it will be small, and intimate. But it will be special.”

“I don’t need special when I have Gibbs,” Tony says, sincerely, “he makes it special, whatever it is.”

Gibbs closes his eyes and buries his face in Tony’s neck, breathing in Tony’s scent, before he lets go and both men are back to business. “Well, since we’re not getting married right now, we should go chase down that suspect.”

“On it, Boss.” The two men head to the elevator, Tony a half step behind Gibbs, on his six as always. “Can we get lunch after?”

Abby and Ducky look at each other, eyes soft with happiness for their friends. “I really don’t know how they can turn it on and off like that,” Abby says softly. “At home they’re so different than at work.”

“Well they are both practiced in the art of masks and Anthony is certainly talented in working undercover.”

“True. So, we had better get started planning this wedding. I get the feeling we better do it quick or they will just go off and get married without us.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The wedding snowballs into a bit of an event. When the news gets out that not only was Special Agent Gibbs seeing Special Agent DiNozzo, but that they were getting married, it did get a little crazy. Abby and Ducky finally had to put a stop to people pressing them for invitations.

As it was, the guest list had expanded to more than the original friends and family intimate gathering that Tony had asked for. The additional guests were all justified – other members of NCIS that the MCRT worked with closely (Balboa and his team for instance, certainly Vance, his kids and the hot nanny), a few of the MTAC techies that Tony knew well, Stan Burley was in town, Tony’s frat brothers, some of Gibbs’ former Marine buddies, a smattering of people that they liaisoned with on joint ops with the other alphabet soups including Tom Morrow, a few friends from JAG and the District Attorney’s Office, LJ the elder, Rachel Cranston, Dr Brad Pitt, Nurse Emma, and a few others. Even the SecNav managed to wrangle an invitation to what was officially becoming a madhouse.

Tony insists on paying for the wedding. When Gibbs objects, they have a candid discussion about Tony’s finances.

“So, you’re telling me you have some money.”

“Um yeah.”

“And by some, you mean…?”

“Well, people keep leaving me money.”

“What do you mean? What people? I thought your dad was broke?”

“Oh he is. But my mother’s family, the Paddingtons, they had money. My mother left a secret trust fund for me that I came into when I turned forty. Huge surprise for me. My dad knows nothing about it.”

“Oh? Did she leave you a lot?”

“Yeah, kinda. Plus remember my great uncle Clive from England? I know I said he didn’t leave me anything and that my cousin Crispian called in the IOU for the 10 thousand pounds. Well. Technically, one of those things was a lie.”

“Your cousin didn’t call in the ten grand?”

“Oh he did. But he was kidding.”

“So you didn’t have to pay the ten grand?”

“I paid him the ten grand. And I even made him take the interest. But my uncle Clive left me quite a bit of money. Uh, and some property. So the ten grand was just Crispian kidding around. Didn’t make a dent in what Clive left me. Shit, I better call Crispian and invite him to our shindig even though he probably won’t come. He hates to fly. What a wanker.”

“OK. Why do I get a feeling that there’s a ‘but wait there’s more’ in this conversation?”

“Well, you remember Corporal Yost?”

“The World War II Marine?”

“Yep, that one.”

“What about him?”

“We kind of bonded. During that case. Remember I was babysitting and hanging out at his house and stuff? Well…we really did hit it off and I hung out with him quite a bit after the case was closed. Until he passed,” Tony’s eyes are sad. “Ernie was lovely. What he had with his wife was something I desperately wanted for myself, and he helped to show me that love was real, you know? That you could love someone with all your heart for years and years and years and miss them when they’re gone. Lord, he had some great stories. We also got along well cause he kind of needed a kid, and I needed a parent. So we were it for each other. After he died, I was the one who organized his funeral. So anyway, he left everything to me. Not that it was a lot, but his house, plus there were antiques in that house. I ended up putting his stuff in storage, couldn’t really bear to sell his things. But I sold his house to a couple with little kids. Thought he and his wife would have liked that. He also left me some investments that paid off well and stuff.”

“Have you spent any of this?”

“Well, I do like my expensive clothes. And I own my apartment. And my car. But I really haven’t touched the principal in my trust. I have some charities that I contribute to, of course, but yeah mostly it’s all there still.”

“So how much are we talking about?”

“Technically, I don’t need to work. Like. Ever,” Tony’s voice is small and he sounds very ashamed of this. Then his voice gets stronger: “But I’ve made my own way since I was twelve. I put myself through OSU with the athletic scholarship and two jobs, and then I worked for a living. I know what it’s like to literally have nothing,” he speaks proudly.

“You don’t ever need to work?”

“Nope. But I love my job. I don’t see myself doing anything else,” Tony’s eyes are fierce. “I’m not my father. I won’t waste my life spending other people’s money.”

“I’m not saying that you are or ever will be.”

They look at each other. “So it’s a lot then?” Gibbs asks.

Tony hands him his last financial statement. Gibbs scans through it and sees a total, and whistles. “Wow! That’s a pretty penny!”

“Which number are you looking at?”

Gibbs points it out. “Oh that’s my quarterly allowance, based on the dividends. I have to take that or I get taxed something crazy, or some such. I don’t really pay attention to the technicalities. I just do what my financial advisers tell me to do.”

“What? Your quarterly allowance? What’s the total principal?”

Tony points to a different number. Gibbs looks up at him, gaping. Tony refuses to meet his eyes.

“Tony, this is a lot of money,” Gibbs says softly. “An obscene amount.”

He shrugs. “I know. But I didn’t earn any of it, so I haven’t really touched it.”

“What happened to buying a Ferrari and going to live in Hawaii, becoming Magnum P.I.?”

Tony looks at him in shock.

“What? I do listen to you babbling on about your favorite TV shows. Except you’d be Robin Masters and not Magnum with this bank balance.”

Tony’s mouth drops open. “I can’t believe you’ve really been listening to me all these years!”

“I’m just glad I didn’t know about this or I might have thought twice about proposing to you, in case you thought I was in it for your money.”

“Oh I know you’re in it for the hot sex.”

“That I am, gorgeous,” Gibbs smiles, “OK then you can pay for the wedding.”

“Thank you.” Tony is silent for a moment. “Also, if anyone ever did say you married me for my money, I just wanted to tell you that I don’t even have to change my will after we’re married.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know how pretty much since we’ve been partners, you’ve been my legal next of kin and medical proxy?”

“Yeah, and?”

“And well you’ve been named the main beneficiary and executor of my estate pretty much for that long too. Not that there was much to benefit or execute back then. So you don’t actually have to marry me. You just need to off me. Bulk of this goes to you.”

“What?”

“Who else am I leaving my stuff to? You’re the one who’s been there for me for fifteen years, Jethro,” Tony grins. “You’ve been the one for me all along.”

“Plus now the hot sex.”

“A definite bonus.”

“And no more talking about offing you,” Gibbs pulls Tony into his arms. “Never talk about that. I don’t even want to think about losing you. I won’t survive that.”

“I’m not going anywhere, babe,” Tony holds him tightly. “I’m yours as long as you’ll have me.”

“Forever. Mine,” Gibbs kisses him fiercely.

“Yours,” Tony kisses him back. “Forever.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The wedding takes place on the rooftop of a hotel, right in Dupont Circle, in early fall, on a Saturday a few weeks after Abby and Ducky nixed the original ceremony. Ducky knew someone who knew someone who helped make it happen on short notice. Judge Fisher agrees to officiate. Invitations were sent out and catering, decorations all arranged. Tony just gives blank checks to Abby and lets her and Ducky work their magic.

Abby, Tim and one of Tony’s frat brothers are Tony’s groomsmen, with Abby as the best man. Gibbs has Ducky, Tom Morrow and Fornell, with Ducky as the best man.

The guests sigh when Tony and Gibbs walk down the aisle together, hand in hand. Both are dressed in Armani tuxedos, Gibbs with a blue kerchief in his breast pocket that matches his eyes, and Tony with a green one that matches his eyes. What the guests don’t know is that Gibbs has talked Tony into wearing his service weapon in his shoulder holster, under his tuxedo jacket that day. Even though Tony claims it will destroy the clean lines of the tux, Gibbs thinks that Tony in his shoulder holster is super sexy.

Walking down the aisle, Tony looks fairly serious, although his green eyes are twinkling and sparkling happily. All the guests are amazed that Gibbs, the legendary Leroy Jethro Gibbs, he who inspires fear in most of the people he comes in contact with, walks down the aisle with the widest smile on his face. There is no doubt that Gibbs is ecstatic, holding Tony’s hand, other hand casually in his pants pocket. He smiles as he catches the guests’ eyes, and suddenly everyone is reminded of what an attractive man Gibbs is.

The vows are simple and traditional. They say their I dos with steady voices and huge smiles, and place simple platinum bands on each other’s fingers. When they are pronounced husband and husband, they step into each other’s arms and kiss, and when Gibbs pushes his tongue in between Tony’s lips and escalates the kiss from a chaste church kiss into a let’s-tear-our-clothes-off-we’re-on-fire kiss, there are catcalls and cheering. When the two finally pull apart, Tony’s resulting blush is almost bright enough to light the evening sky.

The reception is right there on the rooftop, where they can watch the sun set over the Potomac. There is lots of food, and drink; the toasts are funny and touching. It surprises both men how many people wanted to speak on their behalf, not just Abby and Ducky, but McGee, Bishop, Palmer, Fornell, Morrow, Vance, even Sacks said a few words. Tony and Gibbs stand, and Tony charmingly thanks everyone for coming, and thanks Abby and Ducky for arranging the wedding, while Gibbs grins wordlessly. And then the party starts in earnest. Abby convinces the newlyweds to do a traditional first dance. Gibbs tries to get out of it, but Abby insists. She chooses Elton John’s _Your Song_ which the live band plays. After a little bit of wrangling over who would lead, Tony nibbles on Gibbs’ earlobe and tells him to just chill and let him lead. He then proceeds to whirl Gibbs very professionally around the dance floor, ending the dance by bending Gibbs over backwards, giving him a lingering kiss, and taking a laughter-filled twirling bow, amid applause, catcalls and wolf whistles.

Tony dances with his guests, even taking the floor with the SecNav herself and impressing her with his footwork and ability to converse while dancing. Tony makes sure to save a few dances for Kayla Vance and Emily Fornell. When Tony dances with Abby, it is obvious that they have danced together many, many times – they are familiar with each other’s bodies, and easily shift styles from head banging to one of Abby’s favorite bands’ music while the live band was on a break, to slow dancing, to ballroom dance moves and sexy latino dances. Gibbs will only dance with Tony and Abby but he circulates and socializes happily with their guests.

Halfway through the night, Tony has lost his tie, and his shirt is almost unbuttoned all the way, revealing his tanned and lightly furred chest, after a downright X-rated dance with Gibbs. He looks sexily disheveled, his lips kiss-swollen, and if he’s head turning on a regular day, he’s even more so at that moment. He gets on the stage and asks the band if he can sing a song for his husband. He borrows a guitar, slings it around his neck, and saunters to a microphone.

“I’m quite a bit drunk,” he speaks into the microphone, “or I wouldn’t be doing this. And by this I mean be on the stage with a guitar. Not the getting married part. Because I woulda married Jethro drunk or sober. Besides if Abby and Ducky hadn’t insisted on planning this wedding, Jethro and I would have gotten married over our lunch break weeks ago, right, babe?”

Gibbs yells “I would marry you as many times as you want, Tony!”

Tony laughs, “He’s kind of drunk too. But at any rate, Gibbs has been the one for me forever. And I wanted to sing him this song. Because Jet, love has been a slow burn for us, and we needed all that time to figure things out, but all this while, you’ve made my life wonderful.”

Tony strums a chord and begins singing _Life is Wonderful_ by Jason Mraz, accompanying himself on the guitar. The band is pleasantly surprised, because Tony can really sing, and he can really play the guitar, and he is bopping around, serenading his husband. The lead singer of the band begins singing in harmony, a lovely counterpoint to Tony’s mellow tenor, and the drummer pulls out bongos to accompany the two.

“This is my favorite part,” Tony speaks during one of the bridges before launching back into the song, gazing into Gibbs eyes across the dance floor the whole time.

_It takes a night to make it dawn_  
_And it takes a day to make you yawn brother_  
_And it takes some old to make you young_  
_It takes some cold to know the sun_  
_It takes the one to have the other_

 

_And it takes no time to fall in love_  
_But it takes you years to know what love is_  
_It takes some fears before I trust_  
_It takes those tears to make it rust_  
_It takes the rust to have it polished_

 

_Ha la la la la la la life is wonderful_  
_Ah la la la la la la life goes full circle_  
_Ah la la la la la la life is so full of_  
_Ah la la la la la la life is so rough_  
_Ah la la la la la la life is wonderful_  
_Ah la la la la la la life goes full circle_  
_Ah la la la la la la life is our love_  
_Ah la la la la la_

Gibbs cannot take his eyes off his husband (his husband!), and the electricity between them is palpable. The entire reception has fallen silent to watch Tony’s surprising and fantastic performance.

When Tony finishes singing the song (belting the final stanzas, improvising and jamming with the lead singer and the drummer), the applause is deafening. He grins and bows, and before he can get off the stage, Gibbs jumps on and kisses him fiercely, fervently, deeply. He smiles tenderly at Tony before he turns to their guests with a wolfish grin.

“You guys know me and I’m not a man of many words. My gorgeous husband here is the one with all of the words,” he stops to kiss Tony, “even if you want him to stop talking he usually just won’t shut up. You all know I’m a bastard, but I am one lucky bastard to have him by my side. He’s had my six, saved my life countless times, stood up to me when I had my head up my ass, and he’s the one who makes the MCRT look good. We’ve been together for a decade and a half. I’d say it was the best time of my life, but I’d be lying because I’m pretty sure the rest of our lives is going to be even better.” He raises his glass of bourbon. “Tony, there aren’t enough words to express how much I love you. You’re my everything. And if any of you try any funny stuff on him, I carry a gun, and so does he.” Gibbs tosses down his drink, as do the guests, along with calls of “hear, hear.”

Blushing profusely, Tony drags Gibbs off the stage before he kisses the dashing silver-haired man as if his life depended on it, and maybe it did.

Tony thanks Abby for throwing them the wedding during one of their dances together. Abby smiles gleefully, happy to see how happy her two favorite men were. But she cannot pass up the opportunity to get Tony to do something for her. She ends up getting Gibbs to back her up, and they convince Tony to get back on the stage to play the piano. Gibbs even announces that Tony will sing him another song and pulls him onto the stage. Tony sits at the piano and adjusts the mike, clearing his throat nervously. He says the name of the song ( _The Luckiest_ , by Ben Folds) and dedicates it to Jethro and Abby.

When he plays the opening measures flawlessly and begins singing, the crowd roars in appreciation. Tony has the guests eating out of his hands, his fingers dancing over the keys while his sweet tenor croons the intimate love song. Tony has his eyes closed as he plays and sings, as if he is performing only for Gibbs. And when the song is finished, there is utter silence. Abby has tears in her eyes, and she is not the only one in the audience who does. Gibbs is dumbstruck and if truth be told, his eyes were a little moist as well. Ducky begins clapping, and soon the applause is thunderous. Tony grins awkwardly before dashing off the stage and disappearing into the men’s room to regain his composure before he returns to the party and continues dancing and socializing with the people who have come to celebrate his marriage to his longtime partner and friend.

By the end of the night, Tony is in his husband’s lap, straddling him and unabashedly kissing and being kissed by him. Tony’s shirt has been completely unbuttoned and pulled out of his pants and his hair completely mussed by Gibbs’ fingers. His belt buckle is undone as is the button of his pants, his zipper halfway down. Gibbs is palming Tony’s erection, slipping his hand right into his pants.

“Babe, maybe we should take this somewhere private?” Tony mumbles in between moans as Gibbs kisses and nibbles on his collarbone as his hands continue to stroke him, stoking his arousal.

Gibbs scrapes his teeth over one of Tony’s nipples causing him to arch his back and moan, swallowing a curse. Tony tugs on Gibbs’ hair, turning his head up to give him access to his lips and he claims them, the kiss wild and out of control. “I take it your answer is no, then? You want to just sit here and make love to me in public?” Tony pants.

Gibbs pupils are blown, so dilated Tony could barely see the blue of his eyes. “I can’t help it. You’re just so sexy. I can’t keep my hands off of you. I want to fuck you till you can’t remember your name.”

“Come on,” Tony reluctantly gets up, does up his pants, and pulls Gibbs to his feet. Hand in hand they find their way to Abby and Ducky to make their excuses. They thank their friends for pulling off such a spectacular event, Gibbs hand kneading Tony’s ass the entire time.

“Oh go on before you both go at it on the dance floor,” Ducky says, shocking Tony and making Gibbs laugh.

They retire to the honeymoon suite where Gibbs strips the rumpled tuxedo off Tony then clips the sexy shoulder holster back on over his bare chest, leaving it the only thing that Tony wears. And then, indeed, Gibbs manages to fuck his husband into a puddle of goo that couldn’t even tell you his name. And when they finally lie on the bed, exhausted, sated, safe in each other's arms, Tony kisses Gibbs’ chest, right above his steadily beating heart.

“Mine,” he says, his green eyes intense and serious.

“Yours,” Gibbs tells him, just as seriously. “Love you, gorgeous.”

“Love you, babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are links to the two songs that Tony performs.  
> Jason Mraz performing [Life is Wonderful](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IkXcNiWFB28)
> 
> Ben Folds' [The Luckiest](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f9bRmuP-kQY)
> 
> I'm so completely obsessed with The Luckiest. What a beautiful love song.


End file.
